Babylon Faith
by KColl2003
Summary: A race of Old Ones return to wreck havoc on the post Shadow war universe.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Babylon Faith

Rating: R

Story: Action\Adventure

Feedback: In lieu of a Faithbot yeah.

E-Mail:

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 is owned by the genius JMS, Whedon owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Nor do I intend to make profit from them.

**A/N: **Assume Buffy canon unchanged to the end of Season 7. Assume Babylon 5 canon unchanged with the exceptions of 'The Deconstruction of Falling Stars' & 'Sleeping In Light'.

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (1/?)**

4 Billion Years Ago

Prota stared at the wavering, rippling in dark space. Their people had first noticed the anomaly in space a month ago. They'd hurried to the disturbance and waited and watched as the disturbance grew, the others joining them to occasionally watch and marvel before moving on.

When they'd first arrived the disturbance had measured a mile across and half a mile up, but now it measured twenty miles across and five up.

Prota tore his eyes away from the enigma and checked his craft's sensors. Try as they might, they couldn't get anything but static from within the disturbance and the probes they'd sent into it had simply stopped working. On one of his visits to the anomaly, Lorien had theorised that the reason they couldn't read anything from inside the disturbance was because it wasn't actually from this dimension.

Of course Lorien had also suggested that they close the hole before anyone could come through, but his people, the Estrella Gente had laughed Lorien's worries off. It was the Estrella Gente's role in the universe to explore and discover, and what could be more exciting than discovering life in other dimensions?

Besides what could hurt one of the First Ones?

"Proximity alert. Proximity alert. Proximity alert."

Prota started, his three eyes widening and his two pairs of arms pressing wildly at the controls. According to his computers there was nothing even close to him, the nearest ship millions of miles away and heading in the opposite direction. "What can it-."

His voice trailed off into a croak when lightning crackled and shot across the anomaly's rippling surface. Then it seemed to shimmer, the centre starting to open and expand, the process both seeming to occur with inexorable slowness and yet also with a quicksilver speed.

Then it came through.

Porta's pointed ears filled with a terrible screeching, an awful sound akin to the Sorrow Shriekers but far, far louder. Then its heads bobbed through the darkness, six of them in all, each skinless and serpentine, their mouths crammed full of teeth the length of a forearm and their heads' solitary eyes gleaming golden.

And then its entire body came through, a huge village sized-thing with gleaming black scales and leathery wings flapping soundlessly in the stillness of space. And then it wasn't just one, but a dozen, a score, and then an entire horde.

And then one turned its attention to him, baleful glaze chilling him as its head reared back, mouth opening, and golden flames shot out of its mouth, bathing his ship.

"Shield's down to 85%!" Porta gasped as he hit the reverse, another flame hitting his ship. Lorien had been right, they should have been working to close this tear in the fabric of space, not seeking to explore it. "Shields down to sixty-five percent!" The ship was rocked by another flame, the impact almost tossing him from his seat. His hearts thundered in his chest, the bitterness of impending death ashing all within. "Shields down to-," he screamed as the beast's clawed foot grabbed his tiny ship and scrunched it like a child stamping on its toy.

* * *

Lorien sighed as he surveyed the scanner results. The Estrella Gente system had been one of the galaxy's most beautiful civilisations. But no longer, the three planets the Estrella had populated were nothing more than burnt out husks, charnel houses for the billions of dead.

"We've finished our tests."

Lorien turned to face Abberon, heart sinking at his fellow Speaker's grave expression. They who had first seeded the galaxy with life so, so long ago, now numbered so few. "And?"

"The 'Devorar Dilim' as we've named them came through four cycles ago, their numbers in the thousands, perhaps as many as tens of thousands. Upon arriving they destroyed the Estrella Gente in less than a cycle-."

"Did they suffer any casualties?" Lorien interrupted even as he reeled under his companion's report. Less than a cycle? An entire advanced civilisation that had stood for millions of years destroyed in a single moonrise?

Abberdon pursed his lips before finally nodding. "There is some unrecognised biological material suggesting a hundred of the enemy were killed."

A hundred dead, not a heavy price for the extinction of a civilisation that had lived for millions of years. "And is there enough of this material to make an educated guess what these beasts look like?" Lorien queried. Abberdon nodded silently as a hologram flickered into life. "Formidable," Lorien commented before glancing towards his companion. "Where have the interlopers gone now?"

Abberdon hesitated before replying. "We believe they've moved on to the Spati Viator system."

"Why?" Lorien queried.

"Because we've checked in with all near-by civilisations and they're the only one not responding," Abberdon replied.

"There's twenty-eight billion sentinent beings there," Lorien protested. Abberdon just stared at him. "Very well, alert the others."

"The others?"

"The Walkers, the The Krishiac Lords, the Triad, The Torvalus Speculators, The Mindreaders, and the others besides."

Abberdon stared at him. "Is that really necessary?"

"They've butchered two of the Older Races, massacred them with little effort, I'd say it was necessary."

* * *

"So it comes to this," Lorien stared aghast at the battle-filled sky, space bright with a multitude of varying-coloured explosions. They were the greatest armada that the cosmos had ever seen, dozens of races from and spanning a thousand systems, but even so their war rested on a precarious knife-edge.

The war had waged for a century, not long in the lifetime of one such as old as him, but the losses had been so terrible. In addition to the Spati Viator and the Estrella Gente, the Alte Suchers, the Geests Of the Madora system, the Viajante Lutas, the Nebulan Matriarchy, and the Zadajy Conglomerate had been utterly exterminated as well as a number of other lesser emerging powers, but no one had escaped this war completely untouched. Even beings as powerful as them could fall before the Devorar Diliim.

Even as he watched, one of the Devorar Dilim, one of the largest of these gargantuan beasts, fell out of the sky, great craters burning in its hide, and crashed into one of the dead system's moons, dust and rock erupting from it with the impact. "The Vanishing Pit is ready."

"We're close enough?" Lorien queried.

Dorac nodded. "According to the sensors, we're at the optimum proximity."

Lorien tore his eyes way from the chaos around them, steadying himself when one of the enemy crashed into the side of their craft before being driven away by their pulse sonics. He turned to Dorac, Abberdon having died in their war two decades ago, nodded, and turned towards the weapon. The weapon didn't look like a traditional weapon, it was a grey, funnel shaped object about eight feet tall about fifteen feet feet across the top tapering down to around three at the bottom, a steel clamp around its neck holding it in place. "Fire up the weapon."

The Vanishing Pit had been Abberdon's pet idea, Lorien remembered sadly. At first they'd searched for a way to send the interlopers back to their dimension, but they couldn't find a way to re-open the hole they'd come through much less create another one. They could conceivably defeat the Devorar Dilim, but such a war would end with the deaths of most of them and lay waste to much of the galaxy. And so Abberdon had come up with the Vanishing Pit a way of folding a piece of space up, dragging the enemy into it, and trapping them for all eternity.

Unfortunately Abberdon had died before he could tackle the Deovrar Diliim's unique genetic sequencing and program it into the Vanishing Pit. Equally unfortunately, samples of the Devorar Diliim's genetic material was incredibly difficult to get a hold of, and it had taken Dorac time to ready the Vanishing Pit for use.

"Releasing the weapon," Dorac intoned.

Lorien watched as the clamp released and the panel beneath the Vanishing Pit shifted to one side, pitching the Vanishing Pit into outer space. Lorien turned his gaze to the sensors, watching as an intense golden light spun out like an ever-expanding whirlpool from the Vanishing Pit, engulfing first one of the monsters, then two, then more, and slowly dragging them into the Vanishing Pit. Yet even as he watched, those not yet entrapped still wrecked havoc on the fleet, their claws tearing through metal, their tails knocking ships out of the sky, and their golden flames engulfing still others.

Lorien's shoulders slumped in weary relief as the last of the Devorar Diliim was wrenched from the sky and forced into the Vanishing Pit. "It's done," Dorac unnecessarily commented. "Pit is locked."

Lorien nodded. According to Abberdon's blueprints, the Vanishing Pit burnt itself out after one use, should the one they have become damaged in some way, the monsters would be unleashed once again. "Use the blueprints to create hundreds of the Vanishing Pits and seed them through all the universe, make sure there's instructions both on the machines and data crystals with them. Then take this Vanishing Pit and bury it in the deepest hole you can find."

"I will," Dorac hesitated. "And once that is done, I will move beyond the Rim. Many of us will do so, this universe with all its death has become too painful for us all."

"As you wish," Lorien nodded sadly. To be chased away by fear, rather than to ascend through choice was a mistake, but it was not his place to dictate to the others, even from his position as the oldest of them. "Just make sure the Vanishing Pits are ready, it is our responsibility to all who will come after us."

* * *

2263, The Outer Rim

Lorien looked around his fellow Ascended. "You've all felt it," he sent the telepathic message to the others, "the question is what do we do about it?"

"Left them," the Vorlon replied.

"Said their decisions were their own to make, their battles their own to fight," responded the Shadow.

"The Younger Races are none of our concern," thundered a Walker. "There is much still to explore in the Outer Rim."

"Your rules," the Vorlon's emissary continued. "We obey when you told us to leave them away."

"And if they die?" Lorien pressed.

"Then they die," came the in unison reply.

Lorien felt despair's deep bite as he nodded, condemned by his own words. "So be it, the majority, as always, rules."

* * *

They had never been many, Galen sadly reminiscenced, and not all had made it to their hiding place, just under a thousand. The majority of the Techno-Mages were human, but perhaps two hundred of them were Centauri, just under a hundred were Brakiri, several score were Yolu, a few dozen were Narns, and a final couple of handfuls were Vree

Of course no Minbari. It might have been centuries since the techno-mages' inception and their rebellion against their former masters, but to the ever-arrogant Minbari, the taint remained.

And now according to his predictive programming, something even fouler, more dangerous than they had fled from was threatening to unleash itself on the universe.

Galen headed towards his ship, his stride purposeful but unhurried. His brow furrowed and pace slowed when he spied a tall, hawk-featured man with brooding eyes and a greying goatee lurking by his craft's entrance. "The leader of our little colony come to see me off? What an unprecedented honour!"

His humour as always was lost on the glowering Dario. "You can't go, Galen," Dario said.

"Can't I?" Galen flashed his white teeth. "I was under the illusion this wasn't a dictatorship?"

Dario's glower if anything intensified. "It's not safe, not time for us to return."

"When will it be time?" Galen shot back, all attempts at humour ended. "We've been here for four years, those we've feared, scurried from like mice, have been gone for over a year!"

"And you know that another danger is about to rise."

"That's precisely my point," Galen replied. "If we are to be a part of the universe, we have to stand with it not only when it's safe, but also when it's not."

"Elric would not have agreed with this course of action," Dario warned.

"Perhaps not," Galen ignored the stab of pain that jabbed at his chest at the thought of his deceased mentor. "But unfortunately he's no longer here, and you're right, I have seen the portents. If we don't return now, there'll be nothing to return to. Then we'll be nothing but kings of a graveyard."


	2. Chapter 2

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (2/?)**

Tuzanor, Minbar

The training room fell silent when he entered, a reaction he was getting uncomfortably familiar with. "President Sheridan," Darken greeted with a waist bow. "How is the Anla'Shok Na?"

"Please, continue with your lessons." Sheridan looked towards the students, noting with pleasure their growing diversity of races before returning his eyes to their Minbari teacher. "She's fine, Darken, thank you."

Darken bowed again. "We live for the One, we die for the One."

Personally he rather hoped there'd be a moratorium on the dying for a while, but he knew from bitter experience to be pessimistic about such things. Not Ivanova pessimistic, but still. "And how are these recruits doing?"

Darken smiled. "Everyone is progressing."

"Yes," Sheridan looked over the students again. As well as the usual mix of humans and Minbari, there were several Narns, including one he thought he recognised from Garibaldi's security force back on the station, a pair of Brakiri, a Yolu, and even a few Drazi.

However one important race was conspicuous by its absence.

"No Centauri still?" He sighed at Drakhen's head shake. It would only be a small step to see a Centauri take their seat in the Anla'shok, but an important one that would signify that recent rifts were beginning to heal.

"Sometimes a wounded pride can take longer to heal than the most grievous of physical wounds," counselled the Minbari.

"Yes, of course," Sheridan nodded. The Minbari should know, the first time they'd met, the Ranger had been fighting for his life in Medlab, victim of a Shadow attack. Still, it was almost as if the entire Centauri race, bar perhaps dependable, honourable Vir, had gone completely insane in their rush to embrace xenophobic isolationism. "Well, please continue with your lesson," he edged to the back of the class, taking a few minutes out of his day to simply watch and enjoy some of the fruits of his labour.

After a quarter of an hour the pressures of the day called, and he nodded his goodbyes to Darken before exiting and hurrying to work. He had a meeting with the ambassadors of the Interstellar Alliance and if he was late for that….

"Ah hell," he grumbled, "I'd rather fight the Shadow War all over again."

* * *

Shai Alyt Shakiri's eyes burnt as he glared out of his balcony and onto the city below. Betrayal, traitors and cowards, he was surrounded by the scum. Even his own protégé, Neroon, had forsaken him at the Starfire Wheel for that half-human, half-Minbari freak. Stripped of his title and power, he was now little more than an example of a failed Warrior Caste. Almost as galling was that damn Earther, Star-Killer, making his home here and that freak opening the Anla'Shok up not only to the human scum but other races too.

Yes the list of insults to TRUE Minbari was long and grievous. Unfortunately he was in no position to avenge himself and raise the Minbari back up to their rightful dominance.

His fists clenched and unclenched as he dwelled on his humiliation, a sourness festering in his gut. "Come inside," a voice hissed from within his quarters, "we have much to discuss."

Shakiri spun around at the unexpected voice, hackles rising as he recognised the accent. "How?" he hissed as he strode back into his sparsely furnished quarters. "You're supposed to be all dead."

The feline-featured alien smirked. "We had sneaked off-system when our sun went super-nova, searching for First One technology with which to avenge ourselves on our enemies."

"We?" Shakiri looked around, as if expecting more Dilgar to burst out from behind what little furniture there was.

"The rest of my people are still on my ship," the Dilgar replied, his eyes dark and angry. "But we are not many, not enough to survive. We are a dying people and we want revenge on those who wronged you."

"I want nothing to do with you," Shakiri kept his eyes on the Dilgar as he edged towards his quarters' alarm.

"Deathwalker helped your clan greatly in your little grievance against the humans did she not?"

Shariki froze, eyes narrowing. "An attempt at blackmail would be very unwise."

"Blackmail?" the Dilgar affected shock. "No, not all," the Dilgar shook his head. "Merely pointing out just how useful we have been in the past. And how we could be in the future."

Shakiri sniffed, affecting disdain but in fact his heart was racing. "Why are you trying to strike a deal with me?"

"You share our loathing for the humans," the Dilgar replied. "The humans have a saying 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'. It basically encapsulates our interest in you. You're a formidable warrior, a man who's voice is unjustly ignored. Should we aid in your elevation to your supremacy via intelligence gathering, assassination, and the retrieval of First One technology, your first act should be the massacre of the humans."

Shakiri smiled. "A good deal for me. I get power and my vengeance on my enemies. But how specifically will our partnership help me?"

"Minbari cannot kill Minbari, we're not hamstrung by such restrictions," the Dilgar replied. "And when the time comes, when you're ready to move against the earthers, we will have new technology for you, improved eavesdropping, shielding, and stealth technology for example. In addition, even now I have agents searching for First One tech, should we find any, we don't have the resources to reverse-engineer and mass-produce it. But we'll give it to you."

"That is agreeable to me," Shakiri nodded. "How will you keep in touch with me? And how will you get out of here?"

"Our first present," the Dilgar dropped a half-foot long cylinder onto the glass table between them, "a long-distance communications device that is not only completely unhackable, it won't even be noticed by contemporary communications systems. As to how I will get out here, I have a Changeling-Net," the Dilgar explained before changing not into a Minbari but a sever-looking human. "Less Minbari wish to speak to a human, makes my passing easier. Then we are agreed?"

* * *

"Did he agree Warmaster Rha'Kir?"

The Doom-Bringer smirked at one of his attaché's queries as he walked in to the control of their cloaked ship. "The fool is too bound up in his own arrogance and ambition to consider turning us down." He glanced around the dimly-lit, coldly functional craft, feeling every year of his eleven decades. He'd been long retired by the time of The Dilgar Expansion, so when they'd been defeated by the Earthers, he'd been the only alive Warmaster to escape punishment, an incredible irony considering many of those punished, including the much-feared Deathwalker, had been his students and protégés.

As he'd told Shakiri, his team had left their system a few years before the system had gone super nova on a mission to find some technology capable of turning the tide back in their favour. With the destruction of their homeworld and their people, their goals changed dramatically. No longer were they to be satisfied with mere revenge, now nothing less than the extinction of their enemies and those like the Centauri and Minbari who'd stood by and let it happen.

For long over two decades they'd watched and hidden as the universe burnt, first the Minbari-Earth war, then the second Narn-Centauri conflict, the Shadow War, the Earth Alliance and Minbari Civil Wars. For a while they'd thought the universe would destruct without their intervention.

But then they'd found the Drakh and things had started to fall into place. Joined together by their twin hatreds, they'd plotted together, the Drakh supplying them with files on various known places of First One power, and information on the Minbari.

Their plan was two-fold, both they and the Drakh would bring their manipulated civilisations to war, but only when they were ready. An alliance was to be built of the disaffected, already the interstellar powers to be included had been selected. And then, when the Centauri and Minbari had either been beaten back by the rest of the galactic powers or had defeated them, but at great expense to their respective militaries, they would strike, slaughtering what was left.

It was a simple pincer manoeuvre, but one that would leave hundreds of billions dead, an extinct galaxy that would deafeningly echo for eons to come.

So yes, he felt every one of his years, but Dilgar could live for decades more, he could wait a while to finish this mission. Until then, work had to be done. "Eri'Lar," he looked towards an oddity in his people, a historian and linguist, but a man whose unique talents made him invaluable to their mission. "Take a third of the Brutes," he looked towards their bred-for-power foot soldiers, "and one of the shuttles, and see what you can do to track down any First One tech." He looked towards Ha'Kur, a WarElite. "Take another third of our Brutes and one of the shuttles, and head out to make our offers to our soon-to-be allies. Let us be the match that ignites the universe and the enemy of the Dilgar join them on its bonfires!"

* * *

Brisbane, 2006

Sweat flowed down Amy's face, her limbs clenching as she poured more and more power into the spell holding Tepop. The four-armed, two legged insectoid was one of the last Black Thorns remaining, Giles having organised what amounted to a 'fatwa' against the Circle Of The Black Thorn after the fall of LA.

Several specialist teams had been set up, one led by Kennedy and Willow, one by Vi and Rona, and one by Xander and Faith, their only mission to track down and kill Black Thorns.

And so they where here, their fourteenth Black Thorn in two years, the hissing demon a superb magician as well as a highly dangerous fighter, its arms ending in over-sized lobster's claws. While she held its magics at bay, Faith and Xander were darting in and out, attempting to remove its head from its plated shoulders.

Amy's eyes widened when an energy bolt soared out from Tepop's mouth, arching towards the curvy Slayer. Even as she fired out a deflecting spell of her own, Xander leapt at the dark-eyed Bostonian, his face etched with fear. Amy gasped as their spells collided, enveloping the duo in a crackling energy field, grey lightning bolts of a third spell created as a by-product of their two competing spells slicing through the duo, tearing them from the time line.

* * *

Sector 45

Beep! Beep! Beep!

"Interesting." Galen glanced at his sensors, eyebrows raising at the readings. According to the screens, the disturbance was of a temporal sort, the sort that wouldn't be recognised by any of the races bar perhaps the Minbari and then maybe not even them. Even stranger was the unidentifiable energy source fuelling the temporal paradox.

"Whatever you are," he murmured into his dimly lit ship's still quiet, "you've piqued my interest." His fingers dancing nimbly over his ship's controls, changing his ship's direction to one of his order's greatest crimes, the extinction of the Markab people.

They hadn't been involved in that of course, that was the entire point, they should have been. The technology to affect a cure had been in their grasp, but they had already fled from this space and forbidden to return.

Instead they watched as an entire race died and hadn't done so much as lift a finger to stop it.

Galen forced away the guilt that such thoughts and memories caused, relying on the discipline Elric and Alwyn had taught him. Closing his eyes, he entered a meditative trance.

The beep of his proximity alert arose him, warning him that his journey was at an end. Rising he stared down at Markab homeworld, bile rising in his chest as he looked down on the dark, silent planet. After he didn't know how long, he rose and treaded into the shuttlecraft.

Less than an hour later and he was on the planet's surface, the dead's cries ringing in his ears and waist-high, untended vegetation and plant-life everywhere. In minutes he'd walked the distance he'd left his craft for fear the anomaly's energy field would somehow disrupt his craft's computers. Of course there was a chance the irregularity would interfere with his implants, but that was a risk he'd have to take, he couldn't exactly remove them.

For a while he stood watching the shimmering, gleaming portal, his sensors telling the power was building, to what he couldn't tell, but curiosity compelled he stay until the powers reached their peak. His hackles rose as he sensed someone approaching from behind before turning to face the nearing duo. One was a stately Narn with a poised air uncommon to that race and a human, elfin-faced redhead-.

His eyes narrowed as something indefinable tickled up and down his back. "You've been altered by the Vorlons," he accused.

The woman bared her teeth and her eyes momentarily blackened. "And you're Shadow-Tech."

The air seemed to crackle around Galen at the accusation. "Not for centuries."

"Don't try me, Technomage," the telepath warned. "I'm far beyond your powers."

Galen smiled. "Arrogance always was a Vorlon trait."

"Yes, yes," the Narn impatiently snapped as he stepped between them. "Now we're all introduced, can someone please explain why we're all here?"

Galen's eyes snapped towards the Narn. "Atoms and molecules randomly converged to give you life, Citizen G'Kar."

"You have the advantage of me, Technomage," the Narn prophet, one of the most impressive beings of all those they'd eavesdropped on, said. "We've travelled several sectors after Lyta sensed something off here."

Galen tore his eyes from the portal and looked towards his companions. "According to my sensors this is a temporal rift, a passageway to the past. The energy source is beyond me," he admitted.

"Some of the First Ones could manage time travel," the Vorlon-altered redhead said.

"But they've gone, who could it be?"

"That is a very good question." Galen mused. If he could travel time, would he journey back to see his parents that he barely remembered, or spend more time with Elric, the nearest thing to a father he'd ever had, or perhaps even meet Wierden, the Technomage who'd codified their Order's teachings. No, he decided, he would use it to tell Isabelle all the secrets he'd been reticent to share.

Suddenly golden light flashed in the centre, expanding to encompass the entire portal. "It appears," the Narn orator's voice had an undercurrent of excitement, "we're about to get some answers."


	3. Chapter 3

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (3/?) **

G'Kar had always enjoyed women of races other than his own, but foremost amongst them were human females. They were far softer to the touch than Narn women, their lines were somehow more pleasing, and the mating with them was less a brawl and more an expression of pleasure. His current companion however, was ice, the brittle sort that could easily be shattered while chilling you to the bone.

But the one who came bursting from the mysterious portal was all fire. Tiny yet curvy and clad in a pair of black leather pants, white gym vest under a black leather waistcoat that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, her dark eyes blazed indignantly and her so full, begging to be caressed lips were parted in a snarl while her dark mane seemed to snap dangerously around her.

Her companion, G'Kar forced his eyes from the captivating beauty while making a mental note to get her com-link number, was a broad-shouldered man, one eye covered by a patch. G'Kar winced sympathetically, he knew first-hand just how painful eye injuries could be. The man had a jester's face and yet, he somehow reminded him of his old friends Garibaldi and Allan. Men who followed, who weren't remembered by history, and yet always survived, were unshakable in their loyalties and beliefs.

In short, the sort of soldiers every-.

"Ugh!" The thought was cut off when the beauty leapt on him, and not in a good way. He gasped as the woman's leather clad knees crashed into his chest and knocked him on his back, her on top and her hand gasping around his chin and driving his head repeatedly into the ground.

G'Kar, hero of the Narn regime and veteran of many, many wars, shot up his hand to shove the raging beauty off him. Then groaned when the woman intercepted his hand, bending his fingers and wrist back, pain immobilising him.

"Get off him!"

G'Kar heard Lyta's scream and then the 'Amazon' was flung off him and to the feet of her companion, dust and dirt billowing at her landing. G'Kar groaned, just grateful that no other Narn was present to see his humiliation, first beaten up by a woman and then saved by one. No wonder humans said 'curiosity killed the cat', he felt he might well die of embarrassment.

"Impressive," Galen raised an eyebrow as he looked warily towards the telepath. "The Vorlon genetic re-sequencing was extensive."

Lyta smirked. "You have no idea." The telepath looked towards him. "Fall over did you?"

"Human humour," G'Kar grunted as he struggled to his feet, wary eyes on the stranger. "The gift that keeps on giving."

The man stepped forward, oh yes that remaining eye definitely reminded him of Garibaldi at his most dangerous, purposeful, determined. No wonder the galaxy shook before the Earthers, warriors like Garibaldi, leaders like Sheridan and Sinclair. "What is going on here?" the man grated.

G'Kar blinked as he realised the man's comparative youth. With humans it was always hard to judge, but he guessed both man and woman were in their early twenties. "Shoot first and ask questions later," Galen sighed. "It seems to have been an Earth problem long before the Earth-Minbari war."

"See my patience?" growled the dangerously-feral woman with a flick of her full locks. "No me neither." The brunette's eyes burnt into him. "Recognise what species of demon he is Xan?"

"He looks kinda like a Bauer, but it's sunny out and Bauers-," the young man's voice trailed off as he cast a look into the sky. "Oh boy. Look at the stars, we're not in Kansas anymore, Faith."

Faith glanced up and then back at them. "Hell dimension, huh?" The curvy beauty seemed almost excited by the prospect.

"I assure you," Galen stepped between him and the two strangers. Something he silently admitted he was more than a little grateful for. "You're not in a hell dimension."

G'Kar listened as the technomage explained the situation, the year, and the place. It took a long time, both to explain the situation and to convince the sceptical pair that they weren't in another dimension, but the same one, just a different time. Finally however, the 'Vampire Slayer' shot him a sheepish look. "Um, sorry."

"I'm sorry dear, I refuse your apology," G'Kar smiled suddenly. "However perhaps we can discuss it over dinner?"

Faith raised an eyebrow and glanced towards Lyta. "Does he do that a lot?"

"He's persistent," the telepath smiled slightly. "Or annoying."

"On balance, I'd prefer charmingly persistent," G'Kar half-bowed.

"You realise I'm her boy-friend and I'm stood right here?" Xander queried.

"Life is filled with obstacles," G'Kar replied.

"Obstacles?" Faith snorted. "I kinda like you G'Kar."

"I am both honoured and terrified by the prospect," G'Kar bowed.

"G'Kar, war hero, diplomat, writer, and prophet, acting like a lovestruck school boy."

G'Kar turned and glared at the smirking telepath who'd just spoken in his head. "So what happens now?" Xander queried. "How do we get back?"

Galen looked towards the duo. "As far we know you don't," the technomage replied. "I'm certainly no expert in magic, but as far as I know that there's no one bar some of the First Ones with the technology to time travel."

The man looked crest-fallen, while the brunette beauty's only reaction was a slight shrug. "So where do we go from here?" Xander queried.

"Something very bad is coming," Galen said, some sort of light crackling between his clasped hands. "What I'm not quite sure, but the predictive programming say it will exceed the horrors of the past five years. Warriors of your skills will be needed to fight whatever's coming."

"Sounds encouraging," Faith glanced at Xander who after a second nodded. "We're in!"

"Excellent," the intriguing Technomage, he'd always secretly wished to meet one, turned to him and Lyta, "the help of the famed G'Kar and his companion would be most welcome."

"I'm sorry," Lyta interrupted. "But the affairs of technomages aren't any interest of mine."

"My dear lady." The shadow around Galen seemed to grow. "What is happening here concerns us all, not just humans, but every race in the quadrant and beyond!"

"Yes, this posturing is very invigorating," G'Kar broke in before Lyta could respond. "My companion has spoken," he had to admit to more than a little disappointment at foregoing both another adventure and the chance to acquaint himself further with Ms. Lehane. "And so will take our leave." G'Kar glanced towards the two 21st century interlopers and bowed slightly at the waist. "May our paths pass again."

* * *

"Whoa," Faith gasped as she and Xander followed Galen over to his spacecraft, dark eyes widening as they reached the midnight-black triangle ship, sleek and sinister in its simple lines. "It's beautiful."

Galen must have heard her muttered comment because he turned towards her and smiled. "You're more honoured than you know, only Technomages, their families, and students have flown in our ship." The Technomage looked towards the ship. "Magus. Voice recognition: Open."

A door hissed open, a ramp that same colour as the ship's exterior sliding out to the ground. "Please," their host glanced towards the two of them, "after you."

The ship's interior was cool despite the planet's arid heat and simply set out, the technomages were clearly a minimalist people to judge from the ship's simple and sparse set-out. Galen sat down at the pilot's station and glanced over his shoulder to them, the door sliding shut behind them. "Please take a seat. We'll take off in a moment. It'll be a long flight so I imagine you'll want to spend at least some of the time to familiarise yourself with this time period and the multiple races. If you wish, you can use the Magus' computers to do so."

"Wicked," Faith commented. She stared blankly at the computer screen. Computers had never been a speciality of hers, she could just about write a report and send an email, but mostly she just played games on them, and she hated to imagine how tech had progressed in the past two centuries "Um, how can I operate the computers?"

"Magus. Voice recognition: Database Files Accessible." Galen said before glancing at her. "Just ask the computer for whatever files you want, the computer works by verbal command."

"Gotcha," Faith's brow furrowed as she considered how to start. Remembering the alien G'Kar, she spoke hesitantly. "General files on the Narn." Her eyes widened and a grin pulled at her full lips as information appeared on the screen before and she started to learn, eager to learn about a world where she wasn't damaged goods and second best. Now that Angel had died, she fought demons more in Finch and Worth's memories than for anyone living. She guessed Angel would disapprove and call her disconnected, but she had X and that was enough for her for the moment.

Xan though, Faith glanced away from the screen and towards the worryingly-silent Xander sat slouched beside her, he worried her. He had connections to the gone world, the father she'd always disdained but secretly wanted in G, the sisters in Dawn and Willow, and for some unfathomable reason the hero in Buffy. She'd have to keep her eyes on him.

Faith shook her head as she returned her eyes to the computer screen, eager to find out more about this brave new world she found herself in, a fresh start for her.

* * *

Rasi'laka peered down at the silent planet beneath him, his ship hovering just out of the range of its sensors. Shiv'kala had set him a terrifying task, but one with enormous potential both for him and his race.

Beneath him lay the Tak'Cha homeworld, the first non-Minbari race to join the Misguided in the war against their lords one thousand years ago. A race of wiry insectoids, they'd slaughtered anyone who was not only their enemy but also anyone who attempted to stay neutral. They were formidable warriors, in their rage they'd torn planets and systems apart, smiting anyone who would not follow Valen. It was only the Minbari prophet-warrior himself who had stopped them.

They would be a great asset to their holy war, but if they had record of the Drakh and their involvement with the Shadows, they would laugh at his lies about being an emissary of Valen and Zarwin, then torture him to death. Rasi'laka laughed softly as he started towards the planet surface. There was only one way to find out.

* * *

Sector 800

"It cannot be," Lennier of the Third Fane of Chudomo and formerly of the Anla'Shok, now hopefully on the path of redemption, stared at the sensors, a tightness clenching at his chest. "The Drakh, here? But why?"

His jaw clenched as he set his craft in direction of the signal. According to the sensors the planet was supposedly a dead world, the Yolu having tried and failed to colonise some sixteen hundred years ago. Still there was a chance other life-forms might be there requiring assistance and protection, and even if there wasn't it was his duty to gather any information he could on the Drakh, their plans, and their movements. "In Valen's name."

The rest of the journey was spent in silence. Sensors readings indicated that the planet was an arid wasteland, nothing left but scorched earth, even the ruined buildings having long since withered to dust. "What could they want here?"

Putting such questions to the back of his mind, he brought his craft down onto the planet surface behind a group of tall rocks. Lennier focused himself as he clambered out of his craft. His plan was simple but exceedingly dangerous, first check out the Drakh to see what they were doing, then if he had time, break into their craft and find out where they'd come from.

Easy to say, far harder to do.

It was difficult to blend into a desert wasteland, but Lennier tried his best, crawling to where his sensors told him the Drakh were. He came to a halt behind a sparse bush, pulling out a pair of binoculars and staring through them to the Drakh.

His confusion only grew when he observed the Drakh completing what appeared to be an archaeological dig. Since when did the Drakh have an interest in the culture of other civilisations? They were destroyers, butchers, not historians or scientists.

Unless…..

A sudden chill formed in his belly. Unless they were seeking out a new base. Or worse they were looking for Shadows who might not have left with the others, trying to build a new army to unleash on the galaxy.

A footfall behind him had him leaping to his feet, spinning around to face those attempting to sneak up on him, denn'bok leaping into his hand. His heart dropped at the trio of Drakh warriors facing him even as he blurred into action, twirling denn'bok whistling through the air as he drove one end into the jaw of the Drakh to his left while leaping feet first into the central one. The moment he landed, the impact reverberating through his legs, Lennier spun to face the final Drakh, a beam of pulsed energy passing scant inches to his left. Lennier covered the space separating him from his adversary before the Drakh had chance to adjust his aim, the warrior pike slamming into his rival's throat, tearing through flesh, blood, and bone.

Then pain exploded in his upper back, the smell of burning flesh filling his nostrils.

Lennier gasped as he toppled to the ground, sand billowing under him. Pain seared through his side as the remaining Drakh strode past him, already consigning him to his fate. "By all the fates," he moaned as he reached inside his robe and turned on his distress beacon even though he knew in his heart of hearts few if any transports or crafts of any type came here. In fact the very solitude of this area was why he had been here in the first place, searching for the forgotten ones needing his protection.

And then darkness claimed him as its son.


	4. Chapter 4

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (4/?)**

"Um, that's strange." Galen glanced at his beeping monitor.

"What's strange?" In an instance Faith was by his side, Xander following closely behind.

Putting aside his continuing unease at the way the apparently enhanced woman could move, Galen replied. "I'm getting a distress signal from an abandoned planet."

"Could be a pirate trap," Xander suggested, then smiled goofily. "And of course the man wearing the eye patch has to think of that."

Galen smiled politely at the young man's wit. "Still, it's a possibility. We should proceed carefully-."

"We're not leavin' 'em!" Faith snapped.

"Oh, I wasn't suggesting we should," Galen soothed, his fingers dancing over the machine's controls like a world-class pianist plucking out a tune. "Just that we should be careful."

"Careful's my middle name, doc," Faith drawled.

"Oh, somehow I doubt that." Galen murmured.

"How long will it take to get there?" Xander said before Faith could retort.

"Eight – ten hours," Galen replied.

"That's an awful lot of time for the person on the other end of that call to wait," Faith commented.

"True," Galen nodded, "but only a White Star could equal our pace."

* * *

"We're here," Galen announced.

"Whoa," Faith peered down at the yellow planet beneath them. "That's definitely not earth," she shook her head.

"I should hope not," Galen replied. "My navigation would be really off."

"How off-," Xander shook his head. "No forget I asked."

"We're reaching orbit," Galen reported, "we'll take a shuttle, and go down to the surface."

"You can just leave the ship in orbit like that?" Xander queried.

"I have all the controls on my forearm," Galen announced. "Come on."

In minutes they were purring down to the surface, their sleek-lined craft shimmering gracefully down to the ground. "Will we need like oxygen masks or anything?" Xander queried.

"No," Galen shook his head as he rose, the lights in the shuttle dimming as its door swung open and down into a ramp. "The atmosphere is 98% the same as earth, in fact," Galen half-smiled, "given the lack of impurities in it, it's probably better."

"Good to know," Faith and Xander exchanged looks before following him out. The planet was flat for miles and miles in every direction, only broken up by littered groups of boulders, their rough surfaces scarred by the unrelenting suns. "Damn," Faith wiped her forearm across her forehead, the sultry Slayer grimacing. "It's hot."

"Two suns," Xander unnecessarily commented. "Do we have to worry about sunstroke or radiation sickness or anything?"

"Jeez," Faith shaded her eyes and glanced at Xander, "do you have to be a downer on everything?"

"It's called being responsible," huffed Xander.

Galen spoke up before the two could begin bickering, something he sensed they did a lot of. "Long term exposure could be detrimental, but we'd be fine for a minimum of a week."

"By which time we'll be long dead of dehydration," Faith cheerfully commented.

"Always looking on the bright side," Xander muttered.

A smile tugged at Galen's lips. These two were the ones his predictive programming said would help save the galaxy? Clearly the universe was in worse shape than anyone guessed. "The signal is this way."

* * *

"Cool," Faith stalked behind the technomage, her eyes shooting left and right as she soaked in the planet's sights. Not there was a lot to see 'xactly, but hey, brave new universe, right?

"It's behind these boulders," Galen muttered, pointing at a row of boulders that looked for all the world like a row of misshapen teeth.

"You go to the left, Faith and I'll go to the right," Xander instructed in that authorative voice that secretly always made her moisten down below.

Faith's chest thudded as she joined Xander in creeping around the rocks. Faith shook her head when they came around the corner in time to find Galen crouched over a twisted body. "Damn, man," Faith shook his head, "you were supposed to wait for us."

"Ah, I can only apologise, I'm unaware there was an etiquette in these sort of situations."

Faith rolled her eyes at Galen's snippy reply. Two hundred and fifty years ago, he'd have made a perfect Watcher. "What have we got?" Xander queried.

"Damn Xan," Faith shook her head, her eyes fixed on the bone coming out of the back of the bald-headed alien's head, "if you'd spent any time looking at those files rather than down my top, you'd know he was a Minbari." Faith glanced from the bald, bone-ridged alien and up at the Technomage. "It is a he, right?"

"It is," Galen's brow was furrowed and his lips pursed, "and one that is quite grievously injured."

"What about his ship?" Xander queried.

"When we came into orbit, my sensors noted a fire some five kilometres from here," Galen replied. "Given the lack of life on this planet, it was safe to assume that it was this Minbari's ship."

"Nice of you to mention it now," Faith snarked.

"I wouldn't have thought you'd want your mind fettered with trivialities," commented Galen.

Faith shot the technomage a suspicious look. Had she just been insulted? Before she could retort, Xander spoke. "How is his condition?"

"He suffered an energy bolt injury to the back," Galen replied as he eased the man onto his side.

"He's an Anla'shok isn't he?" Faith queried, recognising the male's black robes.

"So it would appear," Galen nodded. "The wound appears to have been caused by a Drakh weapon. It's missed vital organs and of course cauterised on impact, even so the shock would have killed a human-." Galen's forehead creased. "Oh dear, that is problematic."

"Is the wound worse than you thought?" asked Xander.

The technomage shook his head. "No, he's Lennier of the Anla'Shok-."

"Whoa!" Faith gasped. In their journey she'd read plenty of the files to do with Babylon 5. "He's the one-."

Galen nodded as her voice trailed off. "Yes, taking him with us could complicate matters."

Faith's eyes narrowed at Galen's tone, suspicion gripping and twisting at her guts. "Complicate how? Anla'shok kick ass in a fight."

Galen shot her a pained look. "You've clearly read his file. You know what he did."

"So he doesn't get a second chance?" Faith growled. "I got a second chance when I fucked up. From what I've read of your people runnin' out on everyone 'fore the Shadow War, you're gettin' a second chance right now. Why doesn't he get one?"

Galen looked towards Xander. "Oh no," Xander threw up his hands. "Don't drag me into this. When she uses that tone, I either leave or give in."

Faith snorted even as she kept her eyes fixed on Galen. "See, people can always learn somethin' from the X-Man."

Galen sighed. "Very well. We'll need to bring him back to my ship. Most of my medical equipment is there."

"No problem," Faith effortlessly scooped the unconscious Minbari up and cradled him in her arms.

"Where are we going next?" Xander asked as they reached Galen's gleaming, black vehicle.

Galen glanced over his shoulder as he hurried up the ramp. "I checked the records before we arrived here. This planet was once a colony of the Yolu, but there's no record as to why they left here. Perhaps if we go to Babylon 5-."

"Wicked cool!"

The Techno-Mage glanced at her. "Faith can fight in the Mutai and with the prestige earned by winning there compel the local Yolu ambassador to explain just why this planet was abandoned. The Yolu homeworld is nearer, but Mutais tend be less formal away from the homeworld, so with any luck we'll encounter less resistance towards entering."

"Like a hot attack dog I am," Faith mournfully commented.

* * *

"Ah," Lennier awoke to a searing pain in his back and not the expected orange sky but a sombre black.

"Easy there," a husky female human voice put an arm across his chest and restrained her with a surprising strength. "You don't wanna get up just yet."

"Where am I?" he gasped as he looked around. His surroundings were only dimly lit, but from what he could tell he was in a ship, a kind of which he'd never been in before, its sleekness and efficiency suggesting a technology beyond even that of the White Star fleet.

"Relax," the brunette's finely-etched features came into view, her dark eyes filled with concern, "you're amongst friends, well mostly."

"Very well." The woman's half-smile and compassion in her eyes convinced him to at least bide his time.

"Wicked," the brunette's half-smile broadened minutely. "Now what can you tell us 'bout Babylon 5?"

A voice from somewhere in the darkness groaned. "Those lessons on tact never really took did they Faith?"

'Faith' shot a scorching look towards the voice. "Hey, we need somethin' 'bout Babylon 5 that you ain't got, intelligence. Dig?"

"Why would you need intelligence on Babylon 5?" Lennier queried, eyes narrowing. It would be unlikely that an Earther isolationist would be so gentle with him, but perhaps rogue elements of Earth intelligence would try the gentle approach.

"'Cause we're headin' there," Faith replied.

"No!" Panic filled him as he tried to rise. "I can't."

The brunette once again pushed him down, this time a little harder than before. "Galen worked hard stitching you back together, do you wanna rip your wound open?" The dark-eyed woman continued before he could reply. "Relax, Galen says he'll leave you in the shuttle before we exit hyperspace at the station."

Lennier shook his head. "The hyperspace beacon will detect me."

"Not my shuttle it won't," a robed man walked into sight. "The Great Machine will almost certainly notice us, but if we're not causing any problems, it's probable they won't report our presence."

"A technomage!" Lennier gasped. Legends come to life, only Valen and the Vorlorns were greater legends to his people.

"Just so," Galen nodded as he crouched beside him. "The burn pattern on your back, that was from a Drakh weapon, correct?"

"It was the Drakh," Lennier whispered, mind filling with the memories of his frantic fight with the monsters.

"Ah," Galen breathed heavily.

"Who?" Faith queried. "I didn't get as far as reading their files."

"Drakh were a servant race of the Shadows," Galen explained. "With the Shadows gone they seem to be moving into attempting to take over their position."

"I'll look 'em up," the suddenly grim-faced human disappeared from view, her voice muttering. "I freakin' love this place!"

Galen directed his gaze towards him. "You didn't happen to discover what they were after?"

Lennier stared at his questioner as he struggled to decide how to answer. The legends about the Technomages were hardly plentiful, even amongst his people, but they all agreed on one point. While the original Technomages had been the creation of the Shadows to combat the Vorlons' telepaths, the Technomages had rebelled and deserted their masters' ranks. Since then they lived apart, rarely appearing, but never using their powers for evil.

Besides, it wasn't as if he actually knew anything of any real value. "It appeared as if they were doing an archaeological dig of some description."

"Strange," Galen raised an eyebrow, "the Drakh aren't known for their scholarly pursuits."

Lennier nodded, conscious that his gaze was beginning to blur. "I know, it didn't make sense to me either. Perhaps they were searching for some clues to their own past."

Galen nodded, his mouth opening, but whatever he said was swallowed up in darkness.

* * *

"We're here," Galen announced as they exited hyperspace, a rapidly-healing Lennier deposited in a shuttle half an hour earlier. "Babylon 5."

"Whoa!" Awe filled Faith as she peered over her shoulder and looked at the famed station.

"So cool," Xander agreed.

Faith had seen it in photos on Galen's computer, but they didn't do it justice. A multitude of space craft from a variety of races whizzed around outside the sphere-shaped space station, the grey and blue coloured mammoth gleaming majestically in the silent sky.

"Unidentified ship," a young man's voice crackled over the intercom. "Please head for dock three and await future instructions."

"Understood," Galen spoke into the intercom before turning it off and looking towards Faith and Xander, "let's see how good those forged identity cards are."

"Jeez, that sounds so reassuring!" Faith groused.


	5. Chapter 5

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (5/?)**

"Whoa," Faith's whisper echoed around the darkened dock as they disembarked. "This is so cool."

"Try not to look like a total rube," Xander jibed.

"Hey," Faith bumped hips with her boy-friend. "I'm the big-city gal, ya're the country bumpkin."

Galen sighed and looked over his shoulder. "Remember you're wearing the robes of techno-mages, try and act like it."

"Aloof, stick up your ass," Faith nodded. "I'll channel Watchers."

Galen sighed again.

* * *

Lou Welch's jaw hit the jaw when the trio of mystery guests reached costumes. The first was a tall, bald man with an air of supreme confidence, the second was a younger, one-eyed man with a mess of dark hair, and the third was a hot little number that he was sure Zack would hit on in an instant if not for the fact she and both her companions were wearing the robes that he recognised from the last time they'd visited the base as technomages.

"Identity cards," Lou managed to stutter, more relieved than he'd admit by the trio of PPG armed guards at his back.

"Of course," the lead Technomage passed him a trio of cards. "I'm Galen Woodward, this is Alexander Lehane, and Faith Harris, my apprentices."

Lou ran the cards through the machine. When all three came back as genuine, he passed them back. "They've been inactive for quite some time," he commented.

"We've been away." Galen smiled secretly. "But we're back. For now."

"Yeah," Lou nodded uncertainly. It seemed talking to Technomages was about as easy as talking to Minbari. "Well enjoy your stay on Babylon 5."

"Oh," Galen nodded, "I'm sure it will be an education."

* * *

"You swapped our surnames?" Faith queried as they stepped out of the reception area.

"It makes it a little more difficult to track you, should anyone get curious," Galen explained.

"The name isn't that different," Xander objected.

"Yes," Galen conceded. "But by the same token you should be able to easily remember it."

"I always wanted to be Pussy Galore," Faith ruminated.

"Ha," Xander snorted. "You a Bond Girl?"

"Who said anything 'bout Bond?" Faith replied. "I could so kick his scrawny, limey ass. Name sounds cool is all."

Galen sighed. "I never suffered with migraines until very, very recently."

"Coincidence?" Faith queried, an unconvincingly innocent look etched on her beautiful features.

* * *

"Whoa," Faith glanced left and right, nose wrinkling both at the foul stench but also at the dreary decay she saw, refuse littering the floor, dirty people scurrying past, desperation in their eyes. "I guess the future ain't that utopian after all."

"This is Brown Sector," Galen explained. "It's the least developed and policed area in the station."

"Yeah," Faith's eyes narrowed as she noticed an argument at a ragged-looking pottery stall, fragments of a heated conversation floating to her. That together with the people studiously avoiding looking at the beleaguered shop keeper added up to trouble. "That's a shakedown! Xan, I want cover-."

"Faith, we shouldn't involve ourselves -."

"Hey," Faith's eyes spat fire at the protesting technomage, "we don't turn away and let people get extorted. We help people. You don't agree, perhaps we should part company now!"

Faith didn't wait for an answer, striding over to the five thick-set men hassling the reedy-faced store owner. "I promise Malcom, I'll have the money next week."

"It's Mr. Malcom to you Snipes," the lantern-jawed skinhead who appeared the group's leader. "And if you ain't got my money, well," the thug laughed, "guess I get to make an example of your worthless arse."

"Guess you won't," Faith corrected as she reached up, grabbed the shoulder of the man's dirty canvas jacket, and spun him around to face her, the palm of her other hand powering up to slam into his jaw, Faith twisting at the waist to put as much as possible power in the blow.

The impact reverberated down her arm, but it had far greater effect on her adversary, lifting him from his feet, and flinging him half-away down the corridor, blood pouring down his clearly shattered jaw. Faith was moving between heartbeats, gliding onto the next of the men turning towards her. The man, a towering, dread-locked black, threw a thunderous haymaker that Faith nimbly sidestepped while simultaneously snatching a hold of his out-stretched wrist and yanking him towards her, her heel slamming into his shin with bone-shattering force.

The third man charged at her like a bull seein' plenty of red, Faith waited to the last second before steppin' to the left, her left arm comin' up and crow-barring the asshole across the chest. The man hit the floor on his back, his head bouncin' off the floor, and Faith's heel slammin' into his chest puttin' him out of the fight.

"Okay, everybody freeze!"

Faith arched an eyebrow as she turned towards a careworn-looking, ruffle haired man in his early forties dressed in the security officer uniform and backed up by a trio of men. "Ain't that just like the fuzz," she drawled, relieved to see Xander had dealt with his two adversaries with only a cut lip to show for his trouble, "turn up when the fun's all over."

"I'm Security Chief Allan and who are you?" the man demanded after a stunned look at the groaning bodies strewn across the floor.

"Officer," the shop owner squeaked, "this girl and her friend helped me!"

Allan shot the shop owner a look. "Yeah I can see that." Allan looked towards her and the others, but mostly her, but then he was only a man. "And who are you?"

"Technomages," Galen stepped forward and passed their identity cards over to the security chief.

The chief looked the cards over before passing them over. "I wasn't aware that the Technomages taught martial arts," Allan said, wary eyes examining her.

"They don't," Faith shot the crumpled security officer a devil-may-care grin. "I'm just gifted is all."

Allan stared at her for a second before looking at her companions. "Alright," he shook his head, "these five have records as long as your robes so I'm not gonna hold you. This time I'll let you go with a warning because you're newcomers, but give us anymore trouble, and I'll kick your asses out of the nearest airlock."

"You're a regular hostest with the mostest," Faith retorted.

"Faith," Xander grabbed her shoulder, "don't antagonise the nice security officer."

* * *

"Oh what a day," Captain Elizabeth Lockley rubbed at her forehead. Not one, not two races, but an entire group of worlds called the Free Worlds Confederation had applied for membership in the Interstellar Alliance. The matter was further complicated that the group had a long-standing enmity with the Centauri, as if that situation needed any further heat added to it.

Still, more planets in the Interstellar Alliance meant more resources, technologies, trade, and in theory more peace, and that was all good. Anyway, it wasn't her call to make, after an introductory interview, she'd promised to set them up with an appointment with President Sheridan.

"Oh boy," Lockley chuckled and shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. Her ex, Master Of The Universe. She chuckled again, remembering the snot-nosed kids they'd been. Now he was President Sheridan, and she was chief of the single most important and influential space station in the galaxy.

It made her head spin just to think of it.

"Hello sir."

"Zack please take a seat," Elizabeth smiled warmly at her chief of security. "I've had a hell of a day, you?"

"Aaaah," Zack grimaced as he sat opposite her, "I'm about to add to your troubles."

Elizabeth groaned. A space station captain's lot was not a happy one, nor was her day doomed to ever end. "Oh by all means," she dryly replied.

"We've got a trio of Technomages on the station," Allan said.

"Really?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, interest quickening. "I read Captain Sheridan's reports on them and everything unclassified there is in Earth Force Archives on them, which isn't that much. What are they like?"

"Not as mythical as you'd expect." Zack threw a trio of photos onto the desk. "I came across them breaking up an extortion ring, no gadgetry needed. She," Zack pointed to the picture of a beautiful brunette that Elizabeth knew instinctively had to be a hell-raiser, it took one to know one, "looks like a model but fights like a platoon of Ground-Pounders, while he," Zack pointed to a photograph of an one-eyed man, "him I'd like on my staff, nothing fancy but can handle himself."

"Wait, that's odd." Elizabeth peered down at the photo of the one-eyed man.

"What?" Zack queried.

"Look at his eye-patch. Why would a Technomage not have a cybernetic replacement at least as good as those offered by EarthGov?" Elizabeth queried.

"Maybe he didn't want one? Maybe his system couldn't handle one?" Zack suggested.

"No," Elizabeth shook her head. "The Technomages derive all their power from their cybernetic implants, why would they refuse one for something as relatively simple as replacing an eye?"

"Ah, I don't know, I'm no egg-head," Allan shrugged. "Maybe their bodies can only take so many implants and he didn't wanna sacrifice any potential power by replacing an eye."

"Maybe," Elizabeth nodded. It was a potential answer, but she had her doubts. "Given that the Technomages are an unknown quantity with considerable power, I'll have to inform EarthGov that they might be returning. I shudder to think what their response will be."

"Aaaaah," Zack grimaced, "that's why they pay you the big bucks, to make reports like that."

"Have they caused any real trouble?"

"The guys they got into a fight with were real lowlifes, Faith and Alexander only intervened as the gang were attempting to extort money from a shop-owner."

Elizabeth grimaced. EarthGov might have undergone certain reforms recently with Clark's demise, but she was under no illusions that it was whiter than white, far from it. Plenty of people had been arrested or removed from their positions, but there had to be plenty of rotten eggs left, and she had no intention of arresting for someone for the crime of being a member of a group. That smelt too much like the Nazis arresting Jews for the crime of being Jewish.

The problem was how to act without incurring someone's wrath. "I've noticed some problems with our encryption software, I don't think anything this sensitive, reports and the like, should be sent to Earth until a full diagnostic is run."

Allan's eyes gleamed with amusement. "I'll backdate a couple of comments in this week's logs, ma'am. As security chief, I think I have to insist we don't make any sensitive calls back to Earth until our encryption software is secure."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. "I bow to your experience in these matters, but I expect the software will be up and ready in another twelve hours."

Allan grinned and nodded. "Of course, ma'am."


	6. Chapter 6

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (6/?)**

"Kay," Faith turned towards Galen as she entered the dingy quarters the Technomage had hired for them, "boss digs ya gotta us. Now how 'bout ya tell us about this Mutai?"

Galen nodded. "As I said, the planet we discovered our unfortunate friend at was once a Yolu colony. Our records on the colony are limited, until our discovery it was considered insignificant. Now it's become an area of interest for us, I think the best way to find out about it is by impressing the Yolu by defeating their Sho-Rin."

"Kinda fucked up logic, but okay I'll go with it," Faith commented.

"No offence to Faith, but will they let women fight in it?" Xander queried.

Galen hesitated. "Some alien species have females who compete, but not human."

"That's me," Faith winked at her bud, "a trailblazer."

"Oh don't," Xander shook his head, "you'll be burning your wonder-bra again."

"Don't need one, plenty perky," Faith fired back before lookin' towards Galen. "How do you figure to get them to accept me other by me flauntin' my dazzlin' good looks?"

"Perhaps by persuading them to marvel at your modesty?" Galen sarcastically replied.

"Yeah," Faith nodded slowly. "'Could work."

"But failing that," Xander cut in, "plan B?" The one-eyed man shook his head. "Please god, tell me there's a plan B."

* * *

Faith's heart thundered as she looked around the hall that the Yolu used for the Mutai, there had to be over a dozen different races, including several species she didn't recognise from what she'd read of Galen's database, crowding around the outside of the four-sided ring, the air filled with the chatter of bets being placed and the smell of spilt blood and salty sweat.

Yeah, there had to be a couple of hundred people here. It was real lucky she wasn't shy. She waited until the fight in the ring was finished, the Drazi loser ominously dragged out, feet first. "I challenge the Sho-Rin!"

Every face in the audience turned from the ring towards her. So she politely waved at them. And people said she didn't have people skills, screw that, she had freakin' alien secrets. "A human female?" The Mutai-Do shook his head, something that looked to be disapproval on the Yolu's wrinkled face. "Human females are not allowed."

"That's only because," Faith strutted through to the ring, easily sidestepping several attempts to block her, and pulled off her jacket, revealing her sleeveless T-shirt and toned arms, "we'd scare you too much." Seeing the Mutai-Do striding towards her, his blue robes swishing around his feet, she stepped away. "So you won't give me the Sho-Rin, give me a student, and AFTER I beat him, we'll talk."

"Very well," the Yolu stared disapprovingly at her before looking towards the gi-wearing students. "Na'Too, step forward."

A broad-shouldered Narn stepped forward and glared at the Mutai-Do. "Mutai-Do," his tone was respectful in spite of the anger in his eyes, "I must protest this insult-."

"Protest all you want, Na'Too," the Mutai-Do broke in, "as you said, I am Mutai-Do, and my word is law. Rid us of this female."

"Very well," Na' Too bowed at the waist first to the Mutai-Do, and then at her, Faith returning the bow.

And then the Narn burst into action, blurring forward with a right that Faith glided under even as she reviewed what she knew about Narns. As a rule, Narns were about twice as strong and durable as humans, which meant they were about a third as strong and durable as she was, their speed was slightly more than a normal, but she held a significant edge in that regard and was probably way more skilled.

The Narn followed his missed right with a left hook that she blocked on her arm before slamming her own fist in his jaw. The Narn stumbled back, shock flickering in his dazed eyes. Faith came in fast to press her advantage, catching and holding his right uppercut in her left hand, the punch slapping against her palm, while kicking the alien full in the nuts.

Faith had been wondering if kicking an alien man in the nuts had the same effect as doing it to a human. She got her answer as Na'Too doubled up and fell on his side, motionless in the sand. "Kay," Faith glanced towards the Mutai-Do, "I'm ready for the Sho-Rin?"

"Very well," the Mutai-Do looked towards a hulking albinoesque alien with three eyes and a lizard-like snout. The alien had ape-like, ropey arms that dangled almost down to the sand. "Zarr, deal with her."

The alien shambled out of the crowd to stand opposite her. They repeated the bowing sequence and then Zarr burst at her, his earlier shamble replacing by a heart-stopping blur.

"Shit!" Faith gasped as the alien caught her with a swinging haymaker that exploded against her forehead like a hand grenade. Before she could get out of the way, the other fist crashed against the other side of his head.

Her senses reeling, only stubbornness kept her on her feet and only instinct allowed her to lean out of the way of a thrust kick to the chest. Faith darted back, leaning back at the waist to avoid another swinging punch.

This alien Faith didn't know shit about, 'cept he punched like a sonofabitch.

An overhand right came swinging in, but this time Faith was ready for the alien's whirlwind attack. Ducking underneath, she darted inside, driving a trio of fingers up and into the alien's throat. The Sho-Rin grunted and staggered back, but Faith was remorseless, leaping in to catch the alien with an uppercut to its snout's underside. The alien's head snapped back as it grabbed her around the waist and attempted to pull her into a bearhug.

Faith's knees powered up as the alien pulled her in, crashing into its stomach with bone-cracking force. The alien immediately released his grip and stumbled backwards, but Faith wasn't about to stop until her adversary was out of the fight, she feinted with a right, then the moment the dazed alien brought his arms up, heel-kicked him in his right knee.

The alien hit the sand with a crash, the previously hushed crowd erupting in shocked cries. Faith turned and winked at her companions. "Guess there's a new Sho-Rin in town now." Faith grinned. "Sho-Rin, sheriff, see what I did then?"

* * *

"Good gracious," Galen barely breathed. He'd checked the records on Slayers, but to see one actually in action. It was one thing to watch Faith tear through a trio of untrained humans, that had been impressive enough, but she'd torn through not one but two highly trained alien fighters in a devastating manner.

Shaking himself, he looked towards Xander. "She is very fearsome."

Xander shot him a lop-sided grin. "Wait until you get to know her, then she'll terrify you."

Despite himself he found himself smiling back at his companion. "I don't doubt it."

"Yo," Faith hurdled over the barrier, the surrounding aliens backing away to give them a respectful distance, "I've got the Sho-Rin sash. You wanna go see the Yolu Ambassador now?"

* * *

"And furthermore-." Chai Zillah was interrupted in his dictation by the beeping of his door. Turning off his recorder, he hurried to the door intercom. "Yes?"

"Yeah," a husky human and he thought feminine voice spoke through the comm, "it's the Sho-Rin."

Chai gasped. The Sho-Rin, what an honour. "Please," the door began swinging open, "come in." His jaw dropped open as a human female strutted into his quarters followed by a man with only one eye and a hairless man. "A woman is Sho-Rin?" he stared in disbelief. "A human woman?"

"Just call me exceptional," the woman smirked.

"Sir," the hairless man bowed to him. Another shock hit Chai Zillah as he belatedly realised the trio wore the robes of Technomages. "The Sho-Rin requires your assistance."

Chai Zillah gathered himself in the time it took him to return the Technomage's bow. "If it is in my power, of course."

"Great," the woman rattled off a set of space co-ordinates, "you people used to have a colony there right, what happened to it?"

Chai Zillah stared at the human female, his heart dropping when he recognised the co-ordinates. On the one hand, Millza was one of their people's darkest secrets, but on the other it would be a great dishonour to deny a request from someone holding the Sho-Rin sash, a slap in the face of centuries of tradition. "The Sho-Rin speaks, we obey," he intoned. "Millza was settled by our people fourteen hundred years ago. It was never a happy colony for us. Machines would break, people would fall ill, their sleep plagued by nightmares, food would foul quicker than it should. After fifteen years we gave up and abandoned the colony."

The woman and the disfigured man exchanged glances, but it was the hairless man who spoke. "And was a reason ever discovered for these occurrences?"

Deciding that the Sho-Rin's companions deserved the same respect as the Sho-Rin, Chai Zillah nodded. "Not confirmed, but we believe some vestige of the First Ones remained on Millza, corrupting its soil and atmosphere."

"Thank you," the hairless man bowed at the waist, "your assistance in this matter is much appreciated. Faith. Xander."

* * *

"That was illuminating," Galen murmured as they made their way from the Yolu ambassador's suite, the people they passed giving them a wide berth out of respect for their robes. Clearly Technomages were a big noise in this neck of the woods.

"Illuminating how Gandalf?" Faith idly queried as they entered a Turbo-Lift.

"Gandalf?" Galen queried.

"You're a mage, he's a mage, fits doesn't it?" Faith responded.

"Here's a thought, so does my name," Galen replied.

"Faith gives everyone nicknames it's a sign of aff-," Xander looked towards her at her warning growl and shrugged, "acceptance."

"My cup runneth over," Galen sighed.

"Anyhow," Faith returned to the original subject as the lift opened and they hurried out, "you were sayin'?"

Galen shook his head and looked at the people they were passing by. "Not until we reach our quarters."

"Gotcha"

The moment their quarters door slid shut behind them, Galen spoke. "It appears the Drakh are attempting to bolster their arsenal by discovering First One technology, they need to be stopped and that can only happen if we garner as much information about the First Ones as possible."

"How do you intend to do that?"

Galen glanced at Xander. "One man has financed more studies into the First Ones than any, William Edgars. Approaching him would have been problematic at best, he's a known paranoid with a thirst for forbidden knowledge, if we had managed to get near Mr Edgars, he would more than likely not have let us go again."

"Sounds like a charmer," Faith commented.

"That's one way of putting it," Galen half-smiled. "Fortunately however, Edgars was murdered two years ago, and replaced as the head of Edgar Industries by someone far more approachable, Mr. Michael Garibaldi."

"The Michael Garibaldi?" Faith's eyes widened at Galen's slight nod. He was no Sheridan or Delenn, but still, meeting one of the Babylon 5 command staff. "Cool."

* * *

"Got another report on our Technomages, sir."

Elizabeth sighed as Chief Allan strode into her office, she could almost swear Zack was enjoying being a harbinger of doom. But then after the last few years, she guessed everything that was now happening probably seemed pretty small beer to Allan. "Don't keep me in suspense, Mr. Allan."

Zack's weathered face cracked in a smile. "Yes sir. One of the Technomages is now Sho-Rin."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped. "I suppose I'll have to add an addendum to my report. Which one, Alexander or Galen?"

"Neither." She was surprised when Zack shook his head. "Faith."

"Faith?" Her eyes widened. "That little girl beat up the Sho-Rin?"

"In less than a minute," Zack nodded. "And we're pretty sure she didn't use her implants to do it either."

"Who is she?" Elizabeth shook her head, useless speculation was the Intelligence Department's job not hers and she had enough on her plate not to add to it. "Thank you Mr. Allan."

Earthforce Special Intelligence Division

"I have a job for you, David."

David Endawi looked up at his snow-haired, craggy-faced superior strode in to his office, the colonel's grey eyes as glacial as ever. "Yes sir?"

"Yes," the Colonel placed a disc on his desk. "We've just had a report in from Babylon 5-," the Colonel chuckled at his involuntary grimace. "Yes, I'm aware of your past there. Call this a chance at redemption."

"What's on the file, sir?"

"It appears the Technomages are back, or at least three of them are," the Colonel explained. "EarthGov would very much like that cybernetic technology. It would certainly be a boon to our own programs."

"Of course sir," David paused. " Dead or alive sir?"

"One of them alive, we'd prefer to have the corpses of the other two to dissect and experiment on," the Colonel replied.

"I'll get right on it sir." David nodded as he picked up the file, slid it into his computer, and ran it through his encryption software. His brow creased as he began reading the report, noting the lack of background information on the trio of Technomages. David decided to run the three's photos through his image recognition software and see if any of them had been in the forces, government service or prison in the past. It was a long shot, but he didn't believe in operating in the dark. And while that was running, he could do some paperwork.

A beep from his computer drew him away from his palm pilot some time later. Looking up, he saw the image recognition software had shot up a photo of the trio's brunette beauty. "Finally," he grunted, "some back-, the date.." David's voice trailed off as he looked at the photograph on the screen, incredulity filling him. Faith Lehane had been imprisoned in 2000 for Manslaughter, and yet here she was here, over two hundred years later, and not much more than five years older. It was impossible. "She's a time traveller?" Endawi glanced from the photo and then at the screen. The resemblance was remarkable, and the name almost the same. It couldn't be a coincidence and led to one inescapable conclusion.

The Technomages knew how to time travel and had for some reason brought this woman from the past.

Endawi's mind raced with the possibilities. What had been a difficult retrieval mission, was now getting even more complicated. They had to have that technology.

Imagine if they could go back three hundred years with today's technology and jumpstart the Earth space program, they wouldn't be second-best any more. Or even without tech, but to warn the authorities about mistakes like the Minbari war, giving Sinclair and Sheridan control of Babylon 5. Yes, this technology had to be his.

Endawi reached for his comm to call his superior then stopped. If he brought this tech in on his own, it would be his glory, but if he informed his superior not only would he take the glory if he succeeded, if the mission failed, he'd get extra heat.

No, he'd definitely have to do this discreetly.

He reached for his Comm and turned it on, punching in a code known to few even in his department. After a second, a robotic voice spoke. "Earthforce Administration & Projects."

David smiled thinly at the cover name for the department running the blackest of Earthforce's projects. "Operation Ares, Codename Sidewinder, Classification Delta."

As the com-unit beeped its way to the relevant sub-section, David thought about Operation Ares. Operation Ares had been enacted by early in Clark's presidency, just one of many measures thought up by the paranoid politician to counter-act the alien threat. Operation Ares had taken the best and brightest from EarthForce Special Forces, and cross-trained them in the fighting styles of the Yolu, Centuari, Narn, and Drazi as well as others. Now eight ten strong teams existed, experts in the fighting styles, tactics, and strategies of many of their competitors.

"Hello?"

David nodded at the voice, gratified by its cold efficiency. "I have a mission for one of your teams. I expect to have one of your teams in my office for a briefing by eighteen hundred hours."


	7. Chapter 7

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (7/?)**

Warmaster Rha'Kir stared at the reports on Sech Durhan's activities, worry-lines forming on his brow. To judge from what he was reading Durhan had been running a discreet surveillance on Shakiri ever since Shakiri had been deposed. Rha'Kir scowled, if Shakiri was being watched that was a big problem, he couldn't take the risk of their clandestine meetings and plans being discovered.

No, Durhan would have to be removed.

* * *

"No," Lennier shook his head, eyes as wild as a Minbari's probably could get without imbibing alcohol. "I am grateful for your help but I cannot go there. Not-," the Minbari shook his head before staring at the newly docked humans. "I cannot go to Mars-."

"Cannot see Garibaldi you mean," Faith interrupted.

The Anla'Shok skewered the beautiful brunette with a glare, but the brunette appeared unfazed. "As you say, drop me at the nearest inhabited planet on your way and I will find my own-."

"No," Faith interrupted with a shake. "You ain't duckin' out." The Minbari's mouth opened, but the Slayer carried on over him. "Part of amends, and it's a tough part," the brunette glanced away from the Minbari she'd been eyeballing and to her companion, "is facing up to those you've wronged." Faith looked back towards the alien. "Saying sorry to someone you don't know is easy, try saying to someone you've actually betrayed or let down."

"You really should listen to her," Xander commented. "She's kinda an expert on redemption."

Faith chortled. "You sayin' I'm like his Angel?"

Xander chuckled. "Way better looking in black, but sure."

"Damn straight. I'm way better lookin' in any colour!" Faith grinned.

The alien stared at the brunette for a second before nodding uneasily. "Very well. I will accompany you."

Galen raised an eyebrow at the Minari's grudging acceptance. His makeshift crew had a very interesting dynamic to it, the Minbari was clearly a tortured soul, while the two humans each more insightful than initial impressions would suggest.

* * *

Durhan's robe rustled around his ankles as he strode through the halls of the warrior caste, nodding politely to anyone he passed. It had been a hard but invigorating day, one during which he'd hopefully done some good, helped in building this brave new universe were the Minbari wouldn't beholden to some distant 'gods', but to their own values and principles.

Self-determination, a frightening yet invigorating concept.

As a part of this new universe, the Minbari were having to learn to mix with other races, a disturbing yet interesting notion. The humans were amazing creatures, more versatile and just flat out more dogged than any of the other races, including his own. Then there were the Narns, dogmatic on a whole, but recently he'd read the writings of G'Kar, a far-thinking philosophiser to match up even with Valen. The Centauri on the other hand lived down to their reputation as greedy, self-interested, and arrogant although he'd heard many a good thing about Vir Cotto from Delenn. The other races, the Brakiri, Drazi, and the like had all shown tremendous potential in their alliance during the Shadow War.

An exciting time indeed.

Durhan's eyes narrowed as he noticed a pair of Minbari loitering at a deserted corner. There was something decidedly unMinbari about them. Perhaps it was their stance, their auras, or something else, he wasn't sure, but there was something.

Confused, he forced an untroubled expression, and strode towards the duo. "Greetings," he began to bow, then spun around at a footfall behind him, left hand slapping down to slap away the Drazi blade driving at him. Before his adversary had chance to re-attempt his attack, Durhan stepped into him and slammed a palm-strike into his jaw.

Bone cracked as the man fell away, blood arcing from his mouth. Even as Durhan began spinning back to the other two, he felt a needle enter his neck. His eyes bulged as everything seemed to slow, the power leaving his legs. His head bounced off the wall on the way down to crashing to the ground, his breath becoming ever more laboured, eyes bulging with the effort.

"Minbari," Durhan coughed blood, a feeling of unreality filling him, "do not kill Minbari."

"Yes," one of the trio crouched around his convulsing body, "but we're not Minbari."

* * *

"We're approaching Mars orbit," Galen announced.

Lennier's breath caught at the Techno-Mage's words. Despite his best attempts at meditation, the past few days had been consumed with thoughts of Michael Garibaldi. Apart from Marcus, Mr. Garibaldi had been the closest he had to a friend amongst the humans, an affably approachable man. Lennier remembered with fondness their talks on human culture and history as well as their shared motorbike building project. To face a man who he had thought of so highly and then betrayed, although not as personally as he'd betrayed both Sheridan and Delenn, was a daunting prospect.

Faith's mind however was clearly on other matters. "If Garibaldi's this big cheese these days how we gonna get in to see him?" she asked as she peered at the planet over the techno-mage's shoulder.

"Already dealt with," the techno-mage replied, "I've hacked into his personal network and organised us an appointment with Mr. Garibaldi tomorrow afternoon under the company name Merlin Incorporated."

"Merlin Incorporated?" Faith snorted approvingly. "I like it."

"I'm glad you approve," Galen said. "I'm going to take the ship off the regular trade routes, put it in cloak mode, hide in the asteroid field, and come out in the shuttle. Everyone be ready to go in twenty minutes."

* * *

Mars, The Next Day

Garibaldi leaned back in his chair and stretched his back, bored from yet another day filled with dreary meeting after dreary meeting. He might have one of the most luxurious offices on all of Mars, but it was still an office, and he couldn't wait to exit it at the end of the day. Speaking of which, Garibaldi leaned down and turned his intercom on. "Sarah, that was my last appointment of the day wasn't it?"

"Not quite." Garibaldi raised his head at the strange voice, noting the three humans and one alien stood before his desk.

"You!" Garibaldi's eyes blazed as his eyes fell on the group's solitary alien. He was half-way out of his chair, hand lunging at his desk drawer for the PPG concealed there, when the brunette was suddenly by his side, grabbing him by his shirt, and flinging his 200lb bulk back into his seat even as she back-heeled the half-opened drawer shut.

"Just cool it!" the dark-eyed brunette warned even as she kicked the drawer back shut. "We don't want any trouble, just help."

"Help!" Garibaldi scowled at the wilting Anla'Shok. "I'm not helping that treacherous bastard-."

"Yeah, 'cause you never made a mistake did ya?" the brunette drawled. "Never got yourself in a position where you almost killed your superior, one of the few men you ever truly respected?"

Garibaldi tore his glare away from the alien and looked towards the girl, only now realising just how easily she'd restrained him. He wasn't exactly in fighting shape any more, but he was still grudgingly impressed by the casual way the slightly-built girl had thrown him around. "Who the hell are you?"

"Who we are isn't important," the bald man began.

Only to be interrupted by the on-fire brunette. "Yeah, you were under telepathic control, big whup," the girl said. "Everyone's got an excuse for fucking up, but you made it worst by getting drunk on the job afterwards."

"How do you know all this?" Garibaldi spluttered, his head reeling as the modelesque beauty casually blurted out Interstellar Alliance's most guarded secrets.

"In case you're wondering," drawled the one-eyed man, "we're not from EarthGov's Diplomatic Service."

"That I already knew," Garibaldi replied, a feeling of unreality filling him. "They're a lot rougher."

"Mr. Garibaldi," Lennier spoke. "I can only apologise for the past and tell you of the great shame I feel for the dishonourable actions, and my determination to make up for them."

"It wasn't me you betrayed, it was Delenn," Garibaldi glared at the alien, remembering calls from Sheridan sharing his wife's hurt at the betrayal.

Lennier appeared to flinch at his words. "I am aware of that, Mr. Garibaldi."

"Look, we can go around in circles like this, but we have business," the bald man said. "My name is Galen and I," the woman picked a paperweight up off Garibaldi's desk and threw it at the man, Garibaldi gasped as it hit a shield and fell to the floor a foot from the man, "am a Technomage as you can see from my personal shield. And we need your help."

Garibaldi blinked, that was impressive but he was ever a sceptic, and forced a snort. "And I'm just supposed to believe…." His voice trailed off into a gulp when the man morphed into three versions of himself, and all without a single drink. "Okay, colour me convinced. What about the she-devil and patch," the 'she-devil' snorted, "are they techno-mages too?"

"No," Galen half-smiled, "Faith and Xander are something else entirely. We'll get to that in a moment."

"Will we?" Garibaldi looked towards Lennier. "I'm not predisposed to just helping anyone at the best of times, but especially when they turn up with him. What do you want and why should I give it to you?"

"How delightfully blunt," Galen said. "I know that William Edgars was obsessed with researching the First Ones, I need that research. And as for what I can offer you, I know you're obsessed with 20th and 21st century earth culture, I can give you access to two very unique sources of information on that era."

Garibaldi blinked. Did he have any secrets left? "And why do you want this information?"

"I discovered a Drakh ship on an abandoned Yolu colony world," Lennier said. "It appears they are searching for First One technology."

Garibaldi's heart sank even as he struggled to keep an impassive mask. That was something they'd always feared happening, one of the darkest nightmares. "This is Ranger business," Garibaldi bored a glare into Lennier, "REAL Ranger business."

"Perhaps, however as a Technomage I have access to resources and knowledge that even the Anla'Shok no longer possess," Galen said. "You share your information, I'll give you access to my sources."

Garibaldi had to admit he was interested. His fascination with 20th century dated back to his childhood. "What are your sources?"

Galen hesitated before glancing up at the two kids with him. "These two, Faith and Xander, are from the late 20th century."

Garibaldi snorted. "Yeah, and I'm a Vorlon."

"You've got a computer here. Look up," Faith looked briefly uncomfortable but then continued, "Stockton Prison records 2000, Admissions and the name of 'Faith Lehane', you'll find a photo of a strangely familiar and very hot babe. Then look up 'Presidential Pardons', 2004, same name." Garibaldi raised an eyebrow before doing as the brunette beauty suggested and entering Earth's historical archives. His jaw dropped as a very identifiable image flashed up on the screen, it was the girl, a lot younger than she was now, a little more baby fat on her, but definitely her. "Guess you're a Vorlon then. Who knew that inside their encounter suits they'd end up looking like balding middle aged men?"

"How, how…"

Faith shrugged. "Short answer, two spells converged to create a third, ripping us from mid '06 and dumping us here."

"Magic?" Garibaldi felt his hold on reality slipping by the second. "Magic doesn't exist."

"And yet we're here," the one-eyed man commented.

"Okay, okay," Garibaldi shook his head. "So you're from the early 21st century. Big whoop. I'm gonna need more-."

"Ever wondered about the true story of the 'Sunnydale Cataclysm'?" Xander queried. "Only I know the answers."

"Oh yeah?" Garibaldi raised a sceptical eyebrow. The Sunnydale Cataclysm was one of the great mysteries of the human age, up there with the likes of the Bermuda Triangle, Atlantis, and Stonehenge. "And how do you know that?"

"Look up a list of survivors and insurance claimants, you'll find the name Alexander LaVelle Harris listed, that'd be me."

"LaVelle huh?" Garibaldi queried as he typed.

"Yeah, that was my reaction too," Faith rejoined.

Garibaldi's eyes widened as he was confronted by the young man's name. "Okay," he looked up. It wasn't as if he could resist if the Technomage wanted to just take the information, and once they'd left, he could always inform John of their visit and concerns. His decision made, he nodded and pressed on his intercom.

"Hello, Mr. Garibaldi," his PA greeted.

"Hi Sarah," he replied. "Sarah, could you contact my wife and tell her I'll be home late. Then when you've made the call you can leave." Garibaldi ended the call. "Okay, let's talk."

* * *

Lacertan, The Uncharted Regions

Frig'Trenbrae stared down at the controls before him as his ship exited the atmosphere of the planet beneath him. Today he'd fulfilled one of his most nerve-wracking missions ever, he'd successfully made a treaty with the xenophobic Lacertan race, the red-helmeted aliens forced to the table by their humiliating defeat at Babylon 5 the previous year.

The armies of darkness were growing. Soon they would extinguish the 'light' from the universe forever.

* * *

Staat, Sector 152

Eri'Lar crept through the ruins, his breathing rasping through the respirator, his men split between escorting him, guarding their concealed shuttle, and watching out for anyone approaching from the domed Narn colony in the distance. It was risky being here, the Narns were one of the many races his people had attempted to conquer and one of the most brutal to fall into the hands of, but their sensors had picked up a strange energy that didn't match anything on their records, and according to their files, this planet had been close to one of the great crossroads of the First Ones.

So it was worth the risk.

Eri'Lar stopped as he entered a basin shaped cavern. He looked up, squinting to see the high ceiling, then gasped as he glanced around the wall and looked at the luminous-lettered writing gleaming there. As a linguist he almost but not quite recognised the words there, the lettering. His eyes widened as it hit him. "Antecedents," he muttered as he peered up at the text, realising with a thrill that he was seeing a long-dead language that not only pre-dated all known texts but was the mother of them all. Yes, he saw a little Narn there, some Dilgar over there, a symbol shaped like a Minbari letter there. If he had enough time, he could translate the entire message. However for now he'd have to content himself with taking some pictures of the text and deciphering it later.

Once he'd taken care to photograph every inch of the walls, he turned to the mysterious artefact stood in the centre of the vast cavern. It was a grey, funnel shaped object about eight feet tall about fifteen feet across the top tapering down to around three at the bottom. From what he could ascertain it served no purpose except as a container.

Eri'Lar licked his lips. What treasures would this mysterious object contain? What mysteries of the universe would it solve? What long thought impossible paradoxes and riddles would it answer?

He grimaced as he saw the controller on the top of the thing's seal. It would take him a while to break into this and for that he would need peace. He looked at the hulking guards. "Join the others on the surface, but keep in radio contact should we be spotted." Of course their orders were to commit suicide rather than be captured and then tortured, their plans were too important to risk them falling into their enemy's hands.

The moment the Brutes were gone, he began working on the controls, long fingers dancing over the controls as he tried combination after combination.

He gasped as a low-pitched humming echoed around the vast cavern, then glanced up fearfully as the cavern began shaking dust falling from its high ceiling. Then the panel on the top of the mystery container slid aside and a dark light blazed out, filling the underground basement with its terrible brightness. Between the beats of his heart, a monster from his people's nightmares burst out of the container, followed by hundreds of its kin, a high-pitched shrieking clawing at his ears and very senses as he fell to his knees, screaming piteously.

The midnight-scaled creatures each had six skinless, serpentine heads with gaping maws stuffed full of sword-like teeth, each head with a solitary golden eye that blazed through the darkness. The beasts were the size of a destroyer, huge v-shaped wings flapping mightily as they flew upwards, crashing through the roof.

Eri'Lar let out a shocked cry as huge chunks of rock began to fall, turning, he stumbled out of the ancient burial site. Forcing his shaking legs under control, he stumbled up the ascending pathway to break surface in time to see Armageddon come to the Narn colony.


	8. Chapter 8

** FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (8/?)**

J. Carter Moonport

All around was bustle, mostly human bustle, but plenty of aliens to remind her that wasn't her time anymore, as if the transit shuttle passing by wasn't enough to tell her.

"You realise that Garibaldi will have gotten on the pho-, the comm.," Xander corrected himself, "to President Sheridan the moment we left?"

"Yes," Galen nodded. "In fact I'm counting on it." Faith and Xander shot the technomage confused looks. "Unfortunately we dare not risk contacting the authorities directly for fear of being arrested, it is so much simpler to allow Garibaldi do it for us."

"So that information he gave us might come in handy?" Faith's brow furrowed as she noticed something.

"It gives us some leads," Lennier replied before glancing around with a studied casualness. "I believe we are being followed."

"We are," Faith confirmed with a slight nod. "And they're really, really sloppy at it."

"Next to vamps, practically amateurs," Xander agreed before looking towards her. "How do you want to play it?"

"Decoy them in a rough part of town, deal with them then get out?" Faith queried.

"Ah," Xander replied, "the classics."

* * *

Ole Sorensen's eyes narrowed as their prey headed into one of Mars' more derelict areas, refuse strewn across the ground and anti-Earth and EarthGov graffiti adorning the dirty walls. The quartet were unknowingly making things easier for them by moving to the less well policed areas where their grab could be made with a minimum of possible interference.

Wait, there had been a quartet, but where was the female?

Sorensen's breath caught. Things had just gotten more complicated. Sorensen cast his gaze around but couldn't see any sign of the dark-haired beauty.

Sorensen shook his head as he decided it didn't matter. Having all of them would be optimal, but as long as they had one of the time travellers and the TechnoMage, that would do. "Alpha Team," he spoke into his mouthpiece, "move in from the right, Beta, go in from the left, Delta stay with me. Execute on my signal."

* * *

Minbar

"Michael," Sheridan raised an eyebrow as the face of his former Security Chief materialised on the screen before him, "I wasn't expecting a call."

"They're the most fun aren't they? The unexpected ones." Michael's face half-creased in a smile and then a scowl, "although my unexpected certainly wasn't."

"I assume this is going somewhere?" Sheridan queried as he supped at his cup of coffee.

"Well for one, it involved your rival for Delenn's affections."

Sheridan coughed, eyes watering as he almost choked on his coffee at Garibaldi's bombshell. "Lennier, I assume you detained him?"

Garibaldi chuckled dourly. "I was a little over-matched, he had a member of Elric's clan with him as well as a couple of people you wouldn't believe even if you met them."

"Elric's.." Sheridan's eyes widened as he recalled the enigmatic Technomage he'd met in his first few months in charge of Babylon 5. They were back?

"Oh there's more," Garibaldi seemed to be taking an almost sadistic delight in twisting the knife, but then his friend been through these shocks himself, so he was obviously enjoying sharing the surprise. "Remember those nasty people who used to work for those lovers of chaos? Our old friend and the Technomage have bumped into them and claim to know what they're trying to do." Garibaldi tapped on the computer screen before him. "I've sent you the details of our meeting, triple-encrypted using the method we used during the Civil War."

"Okay," Sheridan nodded dazedly, mind still struggling with bombshell after bombshell, "thanks."

"No problem," Garibaldi leaned back in his seat. "Are you going to tell Delenn about him?"

Sheridan grimaced. "I haven't decided yet," he admitted.

* * *

"We should help her," Lennier insisted as they ducked under a bridge.

If nothing else, Xander had to give the Minbari points for chivalrousness and persistence. "If we interfered, she'd only be insulted." Xander glibly replied before sobering. "When Faith hits, we'll hit on the other side, but let her make the first move."

Out of the corner of his right eye, Xander saw Faith drop out of the shadows to his right, the Slayer having nimbly climbed up a roof, and onto a trio of thick-set soldier-boy types. Xander spun away and dived to the right, Lennier by his side.

* * *

Faith dropped into a crouch under an embarrassingly slow spin-kick, levelling her would-be assailant with a pelvis-breaking elbow while simultaneously blocking a kick to the face on her other forearm. The blow's impact reverberated up her arm but she ignored the hurt to reach out with her other arm to grab her attacker's grounded foot at the ankle and pull.

The man hit the ground head-first, skull cracking with a thud, while Faith leapt over him to block a hook to the face on her shoulder, then a right on her forearm, and then a knee to her crotch on her thigh before slamming a straight right to the last attacker's face. Blood spewed out of the man's mouth, but he still managed to duck under her follow-up left hook, but not her elbow reversal into his cheek. Bone shattered as the man spun around and fell to the ground, Faith catching the first of the trio with a back-heel kick to the chest that knocked him on his ass and out.

* * *

Xander caught his rival with a left jab to the nose that sent crimson flowing from one nostril, ducked a right then grabbed his opponent around the waist, lifted him off the ground, and flung him into the dirty wall behind. The man's head cracked against the wall, his eyes glazing in shock even as he caught Xander with a left hook to the jaw that made him see stars as he charged in and buried a knee in the man's gut.

The man grunted, but kept his feet, crashing a chop to Xander's neck that staggered him. Xander leaned forward at the waist, ducking under a right cross then grabbing the man's wrist and pulling him into a kick into the crotch that doubled him up, Xander grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling him down into a knee to the face that sent him pitching to the ground. Xander glanced across at Lennier, grinning slightly at the sight of the Minbari put down the second of his men.

* * *

Ole's jaw dropped as he watched the brunette casually drop three of his highly-trained men like they were a bad habit, and the Minbari and the human male were doing the same to his operatives on the other side. His eyes widened as he realised he'd lost sight of the Technomage.

"I truly hope you have a good explanation for this unprovoked attack."

Ole spun to face the mocking voice, a gasp escaping him at the bodies littered behind him and the unflustered Technomage stood there. His hand dipped inside his jacket for his PPG, but then the Technomage raised his staff and an invisible force hit him with bone-shattering force, knocking him on his back a half-second before he passed out.

* * *

Lennier stared in disbelief at the 'Slayer'. Not one of the Anla'Shok legends could have done what she had with such effortlessness, not Neroon, not any of his people, not even in the wild days before they were united.

He flushed uncertainly when the brunette saw him watching her and winked saucily at him. "Ahhh," Galen commented as he crouched over the group's leader and rifled through his clothes, "according to this ID, he's Dwayne Jones. However, the top level of the ID is a fake, he's actually Ole Sorensen." Galen pursed his lips. "It appears that EarthForce Special Intelligence are apparently interested in us."

"That's me, intriguing," Faith commented. "We best hustle in case they have back-up."

* * *

Centauri Prime

"Our Keeper-controlled agents on Mars report that certain humans have been asking questions about our search for Ole One tech."

Shiv'kala stared at the cowled Drakh who'd just entered his inner sanctum. "Do they know of what our aims are and our alliance with the Dilgar and our planned alliances?" His subordinate shook his head. "Good," Shiv'kala nodded. "Still, send one of the Soldiers Of Darkness after them. I don't want to have anything go wrong."

* * *

Minbar

Turval stared at the Minbari Anla'Shok sat opposite him. After a second he spoke. "Our world weeps for the loss of Durhan," he forced his own emotions from his voice. "I tell you this because I wish for you to understand the enormity of the task I wish to assign you to."

"Durhan was deeply honoured amongst the Anla'Shok," Dulann replied. "I sat through many of his lectures and learnt from his wisdom."

"Yes," Turval nodded. He'd miss his friend's keen mind, their debates that could go on for hours. They disagreed on almost anything, and yet he'd never had a closer friend. "I have the scene reports in, there now appears to be some doubt as to whether Durhan's death was indeed an accident." Seeing Dulann's mouth open, he continued on. "Yes, I know Minbari do not kill Minbari. However the possibility remains that something untoward went on. And so I need someone with discretion to investigate this matter." Turval pushed a data chip over the desk. "There is the information."

Dulann rose and half bowed. "In Valen's name." Dulann backed towards the door then stopped. "And if it turns out a Minbari did break our oldest law? Is this matter to be-."

"No matter who did this, Minbari, human, alien, this matter will not be hidden," Turval's cold tones cut through Dulann's query.

"As you say," Dulann backed out.

If someone had murdered his friend, Truval felt the air vibrate to his rage. Once again the Minbari would have harsh lessons to teach.

* * *

Staat, Sector 152

All the while the monsters destroyed and obliterated, the creatures' terrible history played in Eri'Lar and his fellow Dilgar's minds like some awful, unstoppable horror vid.

The Devorar Dilim had originated from an inhospitable world tens of billions of years ago and many universes away, a world where they'd had to fight three other species to dominate, until finally they'd obliterated their rivals to become the only remaining race. From there they'd attempted to move into the wider space only to be pushed back by other more advanced races, who'd beaten them back to their own planet.

For hundreds of thousands of years the Devorar Dilim had re-built their civilisation, experimented, and improved on their killing techniques. Then resurgent, they'd invaded their galaxy's Elder Races again, and been once again defeated. Hundreds of eons passed, and then Devorar Dilim took to the skies once more, only to find the Elder Races had either died out, moved on, or ascended, leaving behind younger civilisations that were no match for the Devorar Dilim's ferocity and powers. In a few dozen centuries Devorar Dilim's home galaxy was just a barren wasteland, devoid of life and the substance required to feed the Devorar Dilim's never-ending hunger. And so they'd burrowed through the fabric of space itself in their search for more food sources.

In the tens of thousands of years since then they'd torn through galaxy after galaxy, devouring such powers as the New Republic, the Jedi, Yuuzhan Vong Castes, Chiss Ascendancy, the Yautja clans, Goa'uld System Lords, Wraith Hives, the Dominion, the Borg Collective, the United Federation Of Planets, Klingon Empire, Kree & Skrull empires, Nietzschean Prides, the Scarran Imperium, Sontaran Empire, Dalek Empire, and others too many to mention. They plundered dozens of dimensions, destroyed hundreds of powers who thought they could face them in battle, ravaged tens of thousands of systems, and slaughtered googols of beings, all in their ceaseless hunger and determination to ensure none could live but those of their blood. All the great civilisations and the mighty powers had all crumbled before them, their vast cities dying in flames and armadas of countless crafts dead in space. Only the Elder Races of this galaxy had ever contained the Devorar Dilim, but now they were back, and now this universe would die like the others.

Eri'Lar's fell to his knees as the largest of the monsters, the size of a small town, flew back and hovered all of them. Looking around he saw that the other Dilgar had likewise followed suit, an unreasoning terror filling him until there was barely room to breathe.

"You are the beings that freed us?"

Eri'Lar nodded numbly at the alien booming voice inside his head, his skull aching and teeth shaking with its clumsy power. "Why?"

"W…we wish for the universe to be obliterated in vengeance for the extinction of our own people," Eri'Lar just about managed to say.

His head shook with the monsters' roaring laughter. "In that case," the voice returned in his head, "you will have our gratitude by being the last of this galaxy's beasts to die."


	9. Chapter 9

**FIC ****Babylon**** Faith (9/?)**

Yedor, Minbar

"I cannot have an aide who will not look up. You would be forever walking into things." The words tore at Delenn as she repeated them, remembering that fateful day she'd first spoken them.

Lennier back.

Delenn sighed as she turned away from the view from her balcony's quarters, Yedor's crystalline beauty for once failing to soothe her. John had only last night informed her of her one-time protégé's continuing survival, and from a most unimpeachable source.

According to Mr. Garibaldi, Lennier was on a most unusual and perilous mission with a Techno-Mage and a pair of humans who claimed to be time-travellers, one of them some sort of legendary warrior. Strange companions indeed.

Despite the hurt Lennier had caused her she could not help but offer prayer for his success. The threat they were attempting to hunt down was vague but disturbing. Delenn had already ordered the Anla'Shok to begin collating information and investigating leads on the Old Ones.

But over these last few bitter years she'd lost so many. Dukhat, the greatest of recent Minbari and her mentor, Brammer, the greatest of their warriors, Neroon, first bitter then respected rival and finally noble ally, and Marcus Cole, valued and gallant friend.

And in the last day, Durhan had been added to the honoured dead. Grief was a sharper blade to the heart than any knife.

* * *

"I have received information from a freighter captain I assisted a few months ago," Lennier said as he strode through the shadowy bar to its rear where Galen and the two 21st century time travellers were sat. "It appears a Narn colony in Sector 300 has been obliterated by a mystery enemy in the past 72 hours."

"Sector 300?" Galen pulled out a keypad. "The planet's name?"

"Staat," Lennier supplied before taking his seat. "It went off-line 75 hours ago, a Narn scout ship arrived at the planet 48 hours ago, to find…" Lennier hesitated. "To find nothing. According to my contact the place was burnt to the ground and a hole in the ground where something had risen."

Faith looked towards Galen. "Is Staat on the list of leads Garibaldi gave you?" Faith hissed at Galen's nod. "Well shit."

Xander took a sip of the beverage he'd ordered. "Looks like that's our next stop," he commented.

"There is another problem," Lennier added after a moment. "Given that Mr. Garibaldi will have doubtless informed Capt-, President. Sheridan of our visit and news of this attack will result in Delenn," he was pleased when his voice didn't shake at the mention of HER name, "sending Anla'Shok to investigate Staat."

Faith flashed him a stunning yet wholly unconvincing smile. "That case we'll have to use one of my specialities, we'll have to be real subtle."

"You subtle? We're doomed," Xander gloomily echoed his own misgivings about the brunette's plan.

"Jeez, have a little," Faith winked lazily at each of them in turn then grinned, "faith why don't ya?"

* * *

Staat, Sector 300

Faith looked around as they clambered out of the ship several miles away from the ruined dome, noting the blistered landscape. "Jeez, where's all the paradise planets with loads of cabana boys for a lonely gal?"

"Cabana boys?" Xander took on an injured look.

"Don't worry Harris," Faith bumped her hip into Xander's. "I'd make sure there were some grass-skirt gals for you."

"Thoughtful," Xander muttered.

"Instead I have to put up with you three!" Faith looked around. "No offence."

"None taken," Galen muttered. "Shall we set off?"

Lennier rose from his position crouched by a dusty stone out-cropping, his binoculars in hand. "There are several groups moving around the ruins and the hole." Faith noted with disquiet how shaken the Minbari looked. "Most are Anla'Shok, but some are Narn military."

"Can I have a look?" Faith took the glasses off the renegade Minbari and peered through them, her heart hollowing at what she saw. "Shit." Rock and steel lay everywhere, blackened and twisted by the extremes of heat, bleached skeletons lying in the wrecked buildings, the ground scarred by deep gouges, all shadowed by an over-hanging ash cloud that stretched for miles. "Whatever blazed through here was thorough."

"Actually they weren't," Lennier shook his head, "they were indiscriminate, filled with rage and lacking the dispassion of a trained soldier. However their power was so over-whelming that their lack of focus didn't matter, they destroyed utterly and without compunction."

Faith looked towards the Anla'Shok. "In high school I just bet you were voted Minbari most likely to cheer up a room."

Lennier looked towards her. "We do not have high school, we have temple."

Faith moaned and slapped her forehead. "Oh dear god."

"Are we going to get this done?" Xander paused. "Wait, a better question would be how are we going to get this done?"

Galen reached into his billowing sleeve and pressed a button. "We're covered by a camouflage field. As long as we stay together, remain as far as possible from the searching parties and remain as quiet as possible, we should be alright."

"Should be," Faith drawled. "That's wicked reassuring."

Lennier looked towards her, an eyebrow raised. "I assume you are capable of silence?"

Faith's jaw dropped. "You cheeky bastard!"

"You make more noise than Ambassador Londo Mollari," Lennier informed her, "when drunk and arguing with Ambassador G'Kar."

"It's always the quiet ones," Faith shook her head in disbelief.

"How would you know?" Lennier challenged.

Galen let out a long-suffering sigh and looked towards Xander. "You have my sympathies."

"You're gonna go on my shit-list with him." Faith glared at the techno-mage. "And you better believe there's a list."

"I believe you," Galen responded.

Faith threw her hands up. "Shall we set out before Faith does something she might regret?" Xander interrupted.

"No guarantees 'bout me regrettin' nothin'," Faith grunted.

"Give me a minute to ready the shield," Galen said.

* * *

Heart churning and stomach hollow, Dureena Nafeel stalked through the ruins, careful as always to keep to the shadows. After hearing of a rumoured disaster, she'd come here, hoping to find something of value to scavenge. Instead she'd found a horrific holocaust, probably akin to the fate that had befallen her home world.

The stench of ash clogged her throat and filled her nostrils, the chill silence pounding like a drum in her ears, yet despite that she couldn't, wouldn't leave until she'd stayed long enough to pay homage to the unfortunates who'd died here. A completely irrational reaction considering she'd come here to loot the place and yet one that held her utterly in its grasp.

Dureena stopped at the sound of approaching footsteps, looking to her left, she back-stepped six steps and crawled into a narrow alcove that in theory even a woman of her slight stature wouldn't fit in, except for her double-jointed flexibility. Even so, it was a tight fit, leaving her with her back pressed against the rough wall, arms crossed and shoulders forward to fit into the hole, and her head between her knees, her breath slowed to ensure the least amount of noise. The footsteps neared and then a trio of robe-wearing Minbari, she guessed they were those Anla'Shok she'd been hearing so much about recently, passed by and entered the underground chamber she'd been heading towards.

The next forty or something minutes crawled by, but eventually the Anla'Shok, their departure somehow more muted than their arrival. Dureena waited until their footsteps had faded into the distance and then crawled out of her hiding hole, and started down the tunnel. Her chest tightened as she entered a huge chamber, its floor strewn with rubble, and its walls adorned with alien writing. Her legs almost buckled as she failed to understand the script, but somehow guessed it hinted at some unimaginable horror.

Suddenly she sensed another approaching group. Pulse racing, she rushed to the chamber's exit, but realised she'd never get back to her hidey-hole, so instead she hurried to the furthest corner and crouched in the shadows. Her eyes widened as she heard but didn't see the group enter. Where were they? What were they? Why couldn't she see them. "Faith, stay by the entrance and warn us if you hear anyone coming," a strong male voice ordered.

"We can't hide even if I do, but what the hell."

Dureena's breath caught as a human female shimmered into view and stalked to the exit, her dark eyes narrowed as she glanced everywhere. "What the hell does that writing say?"

"I'm not sure," Dureena's eyes widened when two human and one Minbari male materialised, "it's not of a language I recognise. Lennier?"

The Minbari shook his head. "I do not recognise this language either."

"I've got some translation programs back at the ship," the bald man pulled out an instrument from one of his voluminous sleeves, "I'll make a record of them, then-." The man's eyes narrowed. "That's impossible," the man's eyes skirted around the chamber and over her, "it's saying there's five humanoids in her-"

"Aaaaah!" Dureena leapt up with a yell and charged for the exit, the one human female blocking it wouldn't be a problem for her, if she just got past, she'd be out of here.

* * *

Faith raised an eyebrow and set herself for the female charging towards her. Not knowing shit about the race, she wasn't about to take it easy. The woman's lead foot flashed up in a heel kick, Faith blocked the blow on her right forearm, then left hooked the other woman square in the jaw. The alien stumbled backwards with a pained gasp then lunged at her again, seeking to wriggle around her.

Except Faith caught her by her collar, flung her into a wall, and caught her with a straight right to the jaw when she bounced off the cold stone. The woman's eyes crossed and she fell limply to the ground.

"Give me some rope Gandalf," Faith instructed. "I'll tie her up." Faith grinned as she crouched over the woman and started hog-tying her wrists and ankles. "This is probably your fantasy right Harris?"

"No, if it was my fantasy, she'd be doing the tying and spank-." Xander coughed as her eyes narrowed. "Never mind, forget I spoke."

Faith looked towards a watching Lennier. "What race is she?"

The Minbari's brow furrowed. "I am afraid she is a Zander, one of the very few still living after her planet was destroyed during the last days of the Shadow War."

"That's a hell of a note," Faith commented. "People wiped out, like totally?"

"One of Delenn's," there was the obligatory pause that always occurred when Lennier mentioned his love, "aims at the end of the Shadow War was to form colonies of surviving peoples from the devastated planets on suitable planets. However to my knowledge no other Zanders have been found."

"Man, that blows more than the New York Yankees," Faith commented, forcing back a shiver even as she joked. She'd been pretty much alone her entire life, but to be the last human left in the universe, man that was alone on an all new level. "What we gonna do with her?"

Galen sighed. "We have to bring her with us, if we leave her here, she might tell someone of our presence."

"'Kay," Faith lifted the woman's limp frame over her shoulders, "I guess I'll do the carryin'. Are we ready to go?"

Galen nodded. "I've taken my pictures."

"Wicked," Faith forced back another shudder, this place was wicked creepy. "Let's book."

* * *

"Have you finished the translation yet?" Faith queried as they sped through the cosmos. "Any tips on those walls?"

Galen looked away from the screen. "Is she awake yet?"

"Nah," Faith glanced at the slumbering alien, she was a thief to judge from her belongings, and then back at the Techno-Mage, "she's still out. Now don't change the subject."

"The message seems to be a warning about a horde of six-headed dragons trapped in the chamber, stating that their release would cause great devastation-."

"Oh god," every-one looked at suddenly ashen faced Xander. "Remember your bible?"

Faith snorted and shrugged. "Yeah 'cause Sunday School was a priority for my mom."

"Okay, well in Revelations, there's mention of dragons," Xander swallowed. "Six-headed dragons."

"There is also a myth in the number of holy books of the Minbari of six-headed demons whose arrival would pre-empt the end of days," Lennier suddenly commented.

"They did it again," Galen muttered. "The First Ones programmed us with a warning."

"Great," Faith looked around, noting the palpable dread in the air, "now what we gonna do about it?" Faith sighed at the blank glances that met her question. "Yeah, that's what I figured."

* * *

"The assassin has been hired?" His contact nodded silently, Rha'Kir ignored the creaking of ancient bones to lean forward. "And they believe they have been hired by a Centauri House to slay the target?"

"In retribution for various losses during the Centauri War, yes."

"Excellent." If his assassin worked, then it would plunge the Interstellar Alliance into chaos. If it failed, well it would only heighten hostility towards the Centauri.

Win, win all round for his plans really.


	10. Chapter 10

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (10/?)**

"We should be very careful on Erde," Galen cautioned as he reached the planet's orbit. "It's an outlaw planet, a base for pirates, rebels, and smugglers, the scum of the universe. It doesn't recognise the authority of the Interstellar Alliance or any of the other galactic powers."

"You bring us to the nicest places," Xander commented. "If this isn't a tourist hotspot, why are we here?"

"Commonly outlaw planets despite or because of their inherent lawlessness are treasure troves of information," Lennier replied. "However they are very dangerous."

"I have a few contacts on the planet," Dureena commented.

"Colour me unsurprised," Faith muttered as she peered over Galen's shoulder to peer down at the grey, scarred planet surface. "Homely."

The Pinnace shuddered as they entered the atmosphere, Galen quickly glancing over his shoulder. "I'd advise you strap yourself in, the atmosphere is very turbulent. One of the reasons that this planet is allowed to stay free is because of the atmosphere. Ships that travel through the outer atmosphere are normally much bigger and more armour-plated."

Faith hurriedly sat down. "This is gettin' better and better."

Galen ignored the Slayer's complaints as he put the Pinnace into a roll, yellow lightning flashing to the ship's right. His eyes widened as he jerked the steering wheel back, pushing the Pinnace up and out of the way of a whirpool spitting rocks out in every direction.

And then he was pushing down, out of the way of another whirlpool showering stones everywhere, one crashing into the screen just in front of him. "Ahhh!" He grunted as a wind slammed into his ship's left side, sending the Pinnace into a sideways roll, wrenching the wheel out of his hands.

The cries of his passengers rang in his ears as he lunged for the wheel, wrists aching as he struggled to keep control, the wildly-bucking Pinnace buffeted from all sides. His eyes widened as he saw lightning flash in front of him and yanked the wheel to the left, rolling away from the jagged bolt. And then he was yanking the wheel down and sending the Pinnace shooting under a wall of flickering fire.

"We're through," Galen let out a gasp as he checked the sensors, "some scarring on the ship's outer shell, but systems are all operating at near optimum capacity."

"So we'll be alright comin' back out?" the Slayer queried.

"That very much depends." Galen grimaced. "The atmosphere is very random. It could be far worse or far less when we leave." His eyes narrowed as something indistinct appeared on his sensors, but before he could get a bead it was gone. Strange, his sensors were the best remaining in the galaxy.

Deciding it was probably atmospheric interference, he returned his gaze to his sensors and prepared to land.

* * *

Streib Homeworld

The Streib High Council stared back at him as one. These predators of the universe seemingly terrified to have the Dilgar, the bogeyman of the universe, sat amongst them, even if it was to negotiate a mutual offence treaty. "The terms of our agreement are agreeable," one of the Streib spoke suddenly. "We will fight by your side. We will join your war against the Narn, the Centauri, the Earthers, and all their allies."

"The Minbari will fall?" hissed another of the High Council, eyes shining with what Ha'Kur guessed was anticipation.

Ha'Kur hid a smirk as he nodded. Another ally joined to their righteous war. "Oh yes, the Minbari will fall." And so would everyone else, but he thought it best not to apprise their new allies of the fact they intended to submerge the cosmos in blood and fire that no race would survive.

* * *

Faith peered out of the window, mouth drying as she stared out onto the planet's bleak, ash-grey surface. "This keeps gettin' better and better," she drawled before looking towards Galen. "Will we need oxygen masks?"

"No," the techno-mage shook his head as he moved into the compartment at the ship's rear and started changing into something less attention-gaining than a techno-mage's outfit. "The planet's surface is chillier than normal with marginally less oxygen in the atmosphere than earth. That makes it difficult to exert ourselves in, but we should be fine if we just walk to the compound."

"And once there, how will we get in?" Xander looked towards the domed compound

"The compound's docking bay isn't walled," Galen replied. "I'll simply cast a spell to disrupt the security cameras."

"I could have done with you on Relish III," Dureena commented.

* * *

Sheridan sighed as he stood on the balcony of his and Delenn's apartment. For once gazing on Yedor's twinkling, beautiful crystalline buildings failed to soothe his troubled heart. Ever since Garibaldi had informed him of Lennier's return, he'd had a sense of impending doom.

If the vagaries of life had taught him anything, it was that it was inevitable that he and Lennier, one of the people he least wanted to see, would inevitably meet up some time in the future. And how was he supposed to react to that? The protégé of his wife was also the man who'd tried to kill him. He'd have to accept him back for Delenn's sake, but could he ever trust or be comfortable around him?

Although at least thinking about Lennier gave him a chance to focus on problems other than the mysterious time-travellers, the impending return of some as yet unnamed horror, and a Techno-Mage re-appearing, perhaps the first of many.

"May you live in interesting times indeed." Sheridan chuckled and shook his head. His brow furrowed at a whistling sound behind and looked up.

And threw himself to the right as a cowl-wearing man leapt from a rappelling-line, a Centauri knife back-hand slashing at his face, missing by bare inches. The moment the man landed in a crouch, Sheridan sprung forward, hoping to knock the man to the floor before he got his balance.

"Uhh," Shreidan grunted as the assassin leapt to the left, forcing Sheridan to twist to his right when the killer left his weapon behind for Sheridan to fall upon.

Sheridan crouched as he warily eyed the killer, then suddenly let out a shout. "Delenn! Sound a security alert!" The assassin's eyes moved instinctively towards the apartment, giving Sheridan the half-second he needed to get to cover the space between the two of them, grab the man's knife wrist and drive it down to meet his upswinging knee, the dagger clattering to the ground as Sheridan hooked a fist into his attacker's jaw.

The man's head snapped to the side as Sheridan threw himself into the smaller man, his heavier weight knocking the pair of them to the ground. Even as the killer's head bounced off the unforgiving ground Sheridan was slamming punch after punch into the assassin's face, his other forearm pressed against the man's throat, pinning his head down. Behind him the apartment door slid open and the apartment's Anla'shok guards charged in and dragged him off.

"Centauri," Sheridan snarled as the man's cowl fell down, revealing the bludgeoned features of one of Mollari's race. "When will they ever learn?"

* * *

"We'll have to be careful," Galen warned as they reached the dome after over an hour's walk, "my spell will disrupt the cameras, but not effect any actual watching eyes."

Faith looked towards Dureena. "Wanna scout the far end? I'll do the near side." The alien nodded silently. Even though she'd agreed to join their mission, Faith suspected the thief still held a grudge against her for knocking her out.

"There should be a vent on the left wall," Galen commented. "Not openable by a normal human, but a Slayer-."

"Should be able to handle it fine," Faith finished for the Techno-mage.

* * *

Endwai stared coldly at the intercom, the report having just come in from his failed operatives on Mars. Clearly this Techno-Mage and his time-travelling companions were far more formidable than he'd ever suspected, whoever they were.

"Operation Golem, Codename Sidewinder, Classification Delta." As top-secret as Operation Ares was, Golem was even more so for many reasons not the least because that unlike the Ares operatives, participants in Golem weren't volunteers. Instead they were lifers without families that had been discreetly moved into a black operations project, a bio-eugenics-cybernetics project where they fused cybernetic technology onto humans, creating unquestioning soldiers who were super-strong, super-fast, super-reflexes, super-durable, highly resistant to illness, inhumanly high or low temperatures, and capable of performing in various environments that humans would find impossible.

In a decade, they should have added x-ray vision, enhanced night vision, and having expanded their energy cell's rechargeable life from three months to a year. In two decades they estimated they'd be able to add invisibility and energy shielding to their skill set. In half a century they'd be able to communicate with any other cybernetic unit on a telepathic level, as well as having developed teleportation, telekinetic, and technopathic powers. And of course those time estimates would be greatly decreased if they had a Techno-Mage to experiment on.

Due to Project Lazarus' abject failure, Operation Golem's overseers had been content to run their operatives through simulation after simulation but reared away from actually putting them into the field. But the lure of getting their hands on a techno-mage would be impossible to resist.

* * *

"Jeez," Faith glanced around the compound. As a rule, she didn't watch much TV, well 'cept from the sit-coms, but this place reminded her of a cross between the desolation of the Dafur refugee camps she'd seen on the news and the ramshackle huts and lawlessness of the California gold-rush towns she'd seen on old westerns.

All in all, Faith dipped her head as she followed the others into a dusty, poorly-lit bar with something that passed for music, had no-one in this time heard of Skid Row, crackling out of the speakers. This was one fucking depressing place. "Brave new world my ass."

"Did you say something?" Lennier looked towards her.

Faith returned the Minbari's concerned look with a grin. "Just thinkin' aloud." She kinda liked the Minbari, he sorta reminded her of Angel with the social awkwardness and tortured soul thing he had goin' on. She just hoped she could help him like Fang had helped her.

"I recognise a few faces," Dureena said, the alien thief's gaze darting left and right. "I'll go and ask a few questions."

"I have some credits to facilitate such discussions," Galen commented. Faith shook her head, sometimes she felt like the Techno-Mage needed a damn translator. "I'll come with you."

"Now dear," Xander hooked arms with her, "don't I take you to the finest places? Shall I get us drinks and a table?"

"What's he?" Faith winked at Lennier. "Our chaperone?"

"Ah," Xander glanced at the Minbari and then back at her. "I've heard interesting things about Minbari men, I thought you'd want him to join us."

"Why Xander," Faith cooed and fluttered her eyelashes. "What sort of girl do you think I am?"

"If I answered that, not even 23rd century medicine would put me back together," Xander grinned.

"Ha," Faith bumped hips with her bud. Her amusement died as she glanced around the dust-floored dive, the alien yet definitely villainous features of many of the creatures crouched around them sending shivers up her spine as their faces triggered recollections of the similar sort of dives her wild child version had hung in.

Jesus, what a mess she'd been.

They were almost at their selected table towards the back of the bar, Faith deftly wriggling away any man or alien who seemed to think her ass came with a sign saying 'Grope me', when the speakers' music crackled to a thankful stop and an icy cold descended on the bar's smoky atmosphere.

"What the fuck," Faith's jaw dropped as she glanced over her shoulder in time to see a horned, completely black figure standing an easy eight feet tall slide through the bar's steel wall.

"That's not good," Xander murmured as the thing swung out a casual claw, its right hand ripping through the throat of a rising Narn, blood spraying everywhere.

"GALEN!" Faith's bellow was lost in the bar's general panic, the monster shredding through the chaotic mob, body parts and blood flying in the air. Leaping onto the nearest table, Faith launched herself from there and into a jumping thrust-kick, long mane billowing behind her.

"Shit!" Her eyes widened as she was forced to contort beneath a razor-sharp claw, her cowboy-booted feet crashing into the monster's side to little or no effect. The wind gusted from her as she landed in a crouch on a table only for the monster to grab the table's leg and fling it and her to the dirty floor.

Faith hit the ground on her shoulder and rolled up, her hand dipping into her robes to pull out her sai blades. "Aaaaaah!" Her back arched and body writhed when the creature grabbed her by her forearm. A chill grabbed her in an icy vice as her youth and vitality fled from her weakening body, sweat pouring down her. "Shit!" Faith rasped in a pain-filled voice as she swung a foot up, catching the creature's hip, then threw herself backwards to escape the monster's grasp.

Her heart quailed as she hit the ground, eyes fixed on the monster advancing on her. Faith tried to roll away, but her aching body refused to obey her. "I think not." Lennier's flung warrior pike smashed into the creature's face, knocking it back a step.

And then a white glow enveloped the monster, the creature screaming as it vainly wriggled and struggled to escape the glow. Finally the monster fell to the ground, smoke billowing from its charred corpse.

"Xan," Faith groaned as her Watcher helped her up to her feet, joints aching almost like she was an eighty year old gran riddled with arthritis. "What sorta demon is that?"

"It isn't a demon," Galen announced, a grim look on his face as he strode over to stand by the feet of the creature, blue sparks still dancing between his fingers. "It's a Soldier Of Darkness, a thrall of the Shadow Ones. It's probable the Drakh took the race over once their mutual masters fled beyond the Rim."

"Perhaps it is wise we leave before any more of these monsters appear," Lennier commented.

"Discretion is the better part of valour," Xander agreed.

"We won't get any more information from here any way," Dureena agreed as she cast a look around the now empty bar. "And one of my sources has already given me a lead to an expert in 'forbidden technologies' on another planet."

"Wicked," Faith forced a smile as she felt her normal healthy vigour begin to return to her. Shit, if that thing had had hold of her for just a few moments longer she'd haven been toast for damn sure. "We gonna book or what?"

* * *

Xander peered around the compound that Dureena had brought to them to. This planet was a virtual twin to Erde. "You know, two hundred years on, it's really reassuring to see slums still exist," Xander shook his head. "Did I say reassuring? I meant depressing as hell."

"I suspect no matter how long civilisations last and explore the stars, there will always be the haves and have nots," Galen commented as they started down an alley, dirty water sliding down the crumbly wall.

"Bet you were a hit at Techno-Mage parties," Faith snarked as they came out of the alley's far end to find themselves at a dead end. Faith looked around. "Did we make a wrong turn?"

"Did you ever." Xander looked up to see a group of aliens lining the rooftops surrounding them, rain pattering down as a dart flew out of the air to embed itself in the Techno-Mage's neck, Galen crashing motionless to the ground. "Thanks to our Edre contacts we got a real prize here, boys!"

"Looks like we got sold right down the river," Xander scowled.

Dureena scowled. "Natorsha won't live to regret crossing me."

The alien leading the group smirked. "I know several governments that'll pay heavy for a Technomage, the girls will bring a pretty penny for one of the pleasure palaces, and we can sell the two men to a mine-world."

Xander groaned inwardly as he felt Faith tense beside him. "Cool it, not now."

"I ain't a whore, Xan," Faith bristled beside him, eyes burning into the group's leader, "I ain't my goddam mom!"

"No one said you are," Xander soothed, his eyes fixed on the men's energy rifles. "We just need to pick our spot, and our spot isn't now."


	11. Chapter 11

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (11/?)**

Shir-shraba

Meldi Tari yawned as he glanced at the sensor screens before him. A whole year Captaining the orbiting station. He supposed it was an honour, but no contact, not with aliens, nor even his own race outside of those crewing the station rankled.

The Hyach were amongst the oldest of the League races, and had been in space longer than even the Abbai, indeed only the Minbari of the younger races had been in space longer. Their civilization was over seven thousand years old and steeped in tradition and a rich history. Rituals covered almost every facet of Hyach life, and had to be carefully followed at all times, often stiflingly so. His people's lives were governed by the numerous Rules of Order and Hyach society led by the Grand

Council of Elders, a group of over a thousand representatives from towns, cities, and regions across Shri-shraba, a government of gerontocracy, where age was the primary

consideration for leadership.

While he was proud of his race's many accomplishments, Tari wasn't like the majority of his people. He actually liked the idea of travelling to other planets, of meeting and getting to know other races. That was why he'd joined the Hyach Galactic Fleet in the first place, a need, a thirst to explore the cosmos and all its wonders.

His boredom evaporated when the screen before him crackled and went black. Brow furrowing, he leant forward and spoke into his desk mike. "Junior Inspector Tili, what are you getting on your sensors."

"Grand Judge Tari, my sensors," his subordinate sounded puzzled rather than worried, "my sensors have gone dead."

"And your back-up?" he queried.

"Nothing but static."

"Huh," Meldi's fingers drummed a nervous tune out on his desk, his unease growing. "Any idea where the static's coming from?"

There was a moment's silence then Tili replied. "I don't know the source, but the static seems strongest in sectors six though eight, starting a million cubits away."

"Thank you," Meldi pursed his lips, "keep your intercom open and stand by." He changed his microphone's station to Engineering. "Junior Inspector Tadi?"

"Yes sir?" the orbiting station's chief of engineering spoke up.

"I assume you're aware of the sensor problems we're having?" Meldi queried. "It couldn't be a fault on the sensors though?"

"No sir," Tadi sounded affronted at the very suggestion. "I've just finished running diagnostics and they're running at 100% optimum efficiency."

Meldi scowled as he struggled to take in what he was being told. What would the great Sheridan do in such a situation? The most important thing he could do was not panic. "Communications, send a level two vigilance down to Ground Support, and Tadi, I want you to send two unmanned sensor probes to Sectors six through eight. Make sure they're cloaked, just in case."

"Yes sir," Tadi replied. "It'll take ten minutes to send them out and another thirty for them to reach the source. We should get the report then unless the static is too bad."

"Good," Meldi nodded. "Then we can use the time to run battle simulations. I want all our masers and spine lasers testing, and our Okath Kat-class fast frigates running close circuit patrol in Alpha formation. Move people!"

"Sir," the Communications Specialist crackled in, "the Anla'Shok are requesting information on our activity."

Meldi glanced up from his desk, his heart skipping at just the mention of the Anla'Shok. Oh to be the first Hyach member of that elite enforcement group, flying from system to system, bringing law and justice to all. He flushed as he realised his subordinate was still waiting for his reply. "Tell them we're having sensor trouble."

"Yes sir," the Communications Specialist said, "and we're receiving requests from Ground Support to expand on our problems."

"Give them everything else we have, and check with Stations Zwei and Drittel, see if they're getting any sensor interference," Meldi ordered.

"Yes sir." A moment later the Communications Specialist returned. "Sir, Station Zwei says its sensors went down just moments ago. The interference is preventing us from getting through to Drittel."

Meldi's heart skipped a beat. Two of his cousins were on Drittel. Telling himself it was just because the station was on Shir-shraba's far side, he forced himself to focus. "Boost the signal, do whatever you need, but get through to Drittel!"

"Yes sir," the Communications Specialist squeaked.

"Tili, how are these drills coming?" he snapped.

"Everything's working sir," Tili replied.

"Thank you," Meldi licked his lips as he turned his mike back on. "Communications, get back in touch with Ground Support, request they scramble a flight of Tachila Kor-class scout carriers to investigate Drittel's condition."

"Yes sir, getting right on it."

Time crawled by, every second seeming to take a cycle to pass. Then his computer console beeped. "S…sir," Tadi stuttered, his Engineering Specialist's voice trembling with terror, "we have the sensor report, well a fragment anyway, all they beamed back before-."

"Show me the footage!"

Ice curdled in his belly as his screen flickered into life, displaying a terrifyingly majestic six-headed dragon, its scales gleaming malignantly and eyes burning through the night's blackness. And then he saw the others, first dozens flapping behind it, then hundreds, and then too many to count.

Red fire blazed from its fanged maws, incinerating the sensor. For a second he stared horror-struck at the screen, then the beeping of his mike spurred him into action. "Sirrrr," Tadi's voice quavered. "What are we going to do?"

Meldi licked his lips as he forced back the primordial terror engulfing him. It could only be the long-ago prophesised Swarm, the end of times nightmare. "Sound a general alert, send the footage to Ground Support and request they scramble our ships, our entire fleet, request assistance from the Anla'Shok, and sound a general request for assistance to any ships passing by in hyperspace."

"Sirrr," Tadi said, "the interference is blocking hyperspace. We're on our own."

* * *

Kako Vuxi gloried in his flight, his wings flapping mightily, his brethren hovering his wake. In the battles to come, they would fight beside their underlings but so long had passed since their imprisonment. They'd raged helplessly, but now his people were back.

It was time to feast, and they were so very, very hungry.

He only hoped this cosmos had some challenges for them to savour as they soaked it in blood and incinerated it in hell's fires.

* * *

Superintendent Galdi's eyes widened with horror as the sensor reading replayed on his console. Dragging his eyes up, he looked around his hushed bridge and rose. Deciding lying would insult those who'd led for years, he spoke, not bothering to hide either the fear or resolve from his voice. "This isn't a battle we can win or even survive, but we need to buy homeworld time to react to this horde. We fight not for glory or for victory, but for Shir-shraba itself! Flank Crimson, come in from the left! Flank Gold, take the right! We're the centre, hold firm for as long as we can!"

The moment he'd taken his seat, he glanced towards his Helmsman. "Full ahead," he looked towards Weapons Control as Helmsman opened the engines up. "They look to be organic, so we won't be needing our Masers, direct all power from them to our spinal lasers, then when we enter optimum range open up on the nearest. Helmsman, I don't expect you to make it easy for them, evasive action! Operations, all available power into front shields."

Galdi's fingers dug into the arms of his command chair as his ship raced into the hopeless battle, engines screeching as all possible power was forced from them. The stars blurred as their ship reached ever greater speeds, then banked to the left, the nearest winged monstrosity spewing fire at them, flames igniting in airless space. "Sir!" Operations let out a terrified wail. "That caught us on the underside, shields halved."

Galdi nodded. "Direct power from ancillary systems to shielding and weapons," he ordered, his even tone betraying none of his inner terror. All at once the ship's interior darkened as lightning was re-directed. Lasers pulsated from their ship, gouging a pair of smouldering furrows down the nearest beast's left wing, the lasers that could tear through a freighter's bulkhead failing to sever the creature's appendage.

The monster reared back, toothy maw opened in a caw that was lost in space, then lunged forward, his Okath Kat dodging left and right, under its grasping claws, lasers flashing as they attacked. Then one of the creature's claws crashed into the ship's shields, the impact not enough to pierce the forcefield, but more than enough to send them spiralling out of control, and flinging the crew bridge from their stations as sparks exploded from more than one station and supports toppled, slabs falling from the ceiling to dent the floor.

"AHHH!" Galdi screamed as the ship righted. His eyes widened as he dragged himself from the floor where he'd been pitched, eyes alighting on Communications, heart quailing as he noticed the woman's near decapitated state. Climbing back into his chair, he directed his gaze forward in time to watch Weapons fire at the beast they found themselves in front of. Smouldering wounds opened up on the beast, but it continued flying towards them, flapping wings giving the beast a horrific grandeur.

Alarms screeched as sparks flew around the stricken ship's bridge, smoke from several burning consoles filling the air. "Hit it with everything we've got!" Galdi shrieked, blood dripping from his forehead into his eyes. He tried to raise his left arm only for it to fall limply by his side, broken in his earlier fall.

"Sir!" Operations let out a frightened yell, blood soaking the bottom half of his face and the front of his uniform's tunic. "Shields are down to 20%!"

The world seemed to slow at Operations' cry. Galdi could hardly hear the cries of his crew and barely noticed as his ship shook under attack after attack. Galdi shook himself out of his funk and looked ahead. "Head straight for that beast, full ramming speed!"

Flames flared all around them as they charged towards their deaths. Would people remember their sacrifice? Would they remembered in reverence? Or would all their efforts be in vain?

Would this day be the day his race ceased to be?

All these thoughts rushed through Galdi's mind as their ship careered forward.

And then the creature's flames engulfed them, their shields failing as their ship exploded in fire.

* * *

Dara Miri stared with horror at the sensors before her. As a Council Elder she was Chief Of Ground Support, the centre of homeworld security, a position of great responsibility and prestige.

A position that allowed her a front row seat to the destruction of her planet.

Wave after wave of Irokai Kam-class battlecruisers, Irokai Kal-class command gunships, Irokai Kar-class strike cruisers, and Urtha Kal-class dreadnoughts backed up by flights of skirmish cruisers and fighter squadrons had flown out to face the invading behemoths. All had fallen back to the planetary surface in pieces, around a half-hundred ships falling for one of theirs. They were a terrible enemy, countless and fierce, their flames ripping through any attempts of defences, their merciless attacks butchering indiscriminately. The monsters even ripped apart the transport convoys the Council of Elders had vainly sent fleeing towards the perceived safety of the hyperspace jumpgates.

And now they were pressing inexorably onto homeworld, their spine-lasers flashing uselessly against the beasts pervading their atmosphere. Perhaps this was Oshi-Ta's judgement for their atrocities towards the Hyach-do. Whatever the truth, their civilisation died today.

* * *

Kako Vuxi cawed their victory, wings flapping gleefully as he stared down on the blasted, scarred planet surface. The planet's city domes were shattered, deep furrows ripped through its woodlands, and even its mountains had crumpled before their rage. The once vibrant globe now nothing more than a burnt-out, hollow husk.

Yes, some of the younglings had fallen in this their first battle. But the first of this galaxy's powers was obliterated. And soon the others would follow suit, those amongst their number who fell would be remembered, and those who survived would be gloried before they moved on to the next galaxy.


	12. Chapter 12

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (12/?)**

Minbar

"John! To strike back at the Centauri would be unwise-."

"Matthew verses 39 – 42," Sheridan interrupted. Delenn stopped in her rant to stare blankly at him. "You should try the bible, whatever you think about the validity of the religion there's a lot of wisdom in it."

"I don't understand."

Sheridan momentarily savoured his wife's confusion. It was so rare for him to get her off-balance. "But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also," Sheridan quoted with a smile before sobering. "I'm not so vain as to start a war that would result in the deaths of tens of thousands over a failed attempt on my life, one that we don't even know for sure was endorsed by the Centauri government. For all we know, it was an angry businessman, a splinter-group hoping to provoke a rash reaction, or even an alien government hoping to make trouble for the Centauri." Sheridan's eyes hardened. "But while I'm willing to wait to make sure we have the right culprit, when we do have the culprit, they will pay. But they will be the right person."

"Have we heard anything more about Le-, about the technomage's group?"

Sheridan hid a wince at his wife's mumbling correction. "No," he kept his tone business-like, determined not to show any emotion but also under no illusion that his act would fool his at times far too perceptive wife, "they appear remarkably able at keeping off the grid."

"All his teachers said he was a gifted pupil."

Sheridan tried to tell himself that he hadn't heard the pride in his wife's voice. "And a technomage has plenty of tricks of his own."

Delenn's eyes filled with dismay at his curt reply, her mouth opening. Just then the conference room door slid open, saving their discussion from a perhaps inevitable deterioration. "Entil'Zha," the Minbari who entered bowed to first Delenn and then him, "President Sheridan."

"Duhann," Delenn's tone was stiff, a probable after-effect of their argument, "I left specific word that we not be disturbed."

The Minbari almost flinched, Sheridan's eyes narrowing as he belatedly noticed the near-panic in the normally serene alien's eyes. "I beg your pardon Entil'Zha," the Ranger replied. "But we have been having some problems in Hyach space, specifically a lack of contact from our Shir-shraba stationed patrol."

Sheridan nodded. As part of the ISA accords, any signee could request a patrol of White Stars on their land. It was purely symbolic, there wasn't much a few White Stars could do against a truly determined invading planetary force but it was the message the patrol sent. It said 'we're here, and where we are, others will follow and bring justice and aid to our allies and devastation to our enemies'.

It was a wonder the Anla'Shok hadn't gone into Hallmark cards really.

Sheridan sat back and allowed his wife to handle what was Anla'Shok business after all. "Has a patrol been sent to check on Shir-shraba?"

"Yes." The Anla'Shok strode over to the screen and turned it on. "And this is what they found."

At first Sheridan thought he was looking at an asteroid field then it slowly dawned on him it was in fact the wreckage of a battle. Hundreds of Hyach ships hung dead in space, torn and burnt wreckage of fighters, cruisers, dreadnoughts, gunships, space stations, and transporters alike. Sheridan glanced at Delenn when she let out a choked sob. She'd spotted the ruins of the White Stars floating in the silent darkness.

"What of the planet?" Delenn's whisper broke the disbelieving silence.

The Anla'Shok silently continued the film, the Anla'Shok's recording weaving through the battlefield to display the planet. Deep furrows and wide craters had been torn through the planet's surface, its cities still aflame, and blackened clouds of smoke billowing up into the air. "How many survivors?" Delenn disappeared.

The Anla'Shok shook his head. "The crew couldn't get to the planet surface. When they approached the planet their sensors found some sort of environmental toxin, the sort that would tear through all but the best of shielding, and had to retreat. Although the crew were fine, we had scuttle the White Star. The toxin appeared impossible to remove and any one who would have crewed the ship for any length of time would have been killed. Their sensors also recorded that the nearer they got to the surface where "

"Good god," Sheridan barely breathed. It was the threat Michael had warned him about, it was here, and far, far worse than he'd ever imagined.

* * *

Drusai III

"I ain't gonna be no whore in no pleasure palace!" Faith cursed as she strode back and forth across the dirty floor.

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Given that I know from personal experience that your thighs could crack boulders, I doubt that would work out for your employers." Xander flushed as he realised both Lennier and Dureena had turned towards him with appraising eyes. "Moving on," he muttered as Faith shot him a thinly amused look, "how's Galen looking?"

"Out cold," Dureena announced. "Whatever they hit him with, it was powerful."

Faith scowled at the news before inspecting the metal door. "I could kick through the door with three or four kicks," she announced.

"And if you did the guards outside would be alerted long before you attempted an exit," Lennier very reasonably commented.

Faith glared at the Anla'Shok, dark eyes hardening and full lips opening in a doubtless angry comment. "Then it is fortunate," four sets of eyes snapped to the Narn stood in the suddenly open doorway, "I dealt with them."

"G'Kar!" Faith was predictably the first to break the stunned silence that followed the diplomat's appearance. "Is that a Denn'bok in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?"

"Ha! In this case," G'Kar pulled out a Minbari fighting pike from under his robes and threw it to a surprised Lennier, "can't it be both?" G'Kar shot the Minbari a forbidding look. "I trust you've learnt from your earlier experiences?"

Lennier stared back at the Narn. "Indeed I have."

"Then," the Narn broke out into a beaming smile. "That is all one can often hope from life."

Xander finally found his tongue. "How, what, where?"

"My companion," Lyta stepped into sight beside the talking Narn, "sensed familiar presences near-by and we came to investigate. With her abilities dealing with these yahoos-."

"Yahoos?" Faith interrupted.

"Mr. Garibaldi's influence." G'Kar chuckled before continuing. "Was relatively simple."

"However, there might well be others on their way, so we should leave." Lyta glanced back out into the corridor.

"I still need to see our contract about betraying us, and to see if he has any information," Dureena said before glancing down at Galen. "I believe he is coming around."

"Oh good," Faith cracked her knuckles. "I really wanna talk to him."

"Perhaps I can help," Lyta said. "I am after all a telepath."

"Sounds good to me," Xander agreed.

"Less talking and more walking," G'Kar clapped his hands together. "Come, come."

"Mother hen, much?" Faith queried.

* * *

Raga grinned. As local Chadis leader he did a lot of business, buying and selling, not only goods, but information, and influence. Today though was a very good day. Not only had he sold five people for considerable profit, especially considering what governments would pay for a techno-mage and how in demand beautiful young earth women were in the wake of Sheridan's heroism and a resurgence in earth's popularity. Not only that, but as result of her capture, he'd get out of having to repay his debt to that bitch Dureena.

Yes, today was a very good day.

"Hey asshole, did you think I wouldn't come after you? Raga spun to face the husky voice only to receive a crack to the jaw that knocked him on his back. "Think you could sell me?"Tears spilled from his eyes as a foot crashed into his crotch before his head had stopped spinning. "Make me into a whore?" Then a hand was around his neck dragging him to his feet, his own hands vainly trying to force his attacker's arm away. "Big fucking mistake!"

And then he was flying through the air and crashing headfirst into the far wall. Crimson filled his blurred vision as he slid down the wall to slump limply as the fuming brunette stalked towards him. "Uhhh," he tried to crawl to his feet, but his limbs wouldn't obey him. "Uhhhh."

"Betraying me was very unwise." His heart stilled when Dureena moved into his line of vision. "No wonder people say 'never trust a Brakiri.' Now I want answers!"

"W..what I know is worth a lot of credits," he rattled. "I'm not going to give it away to repay a favour."

"No you're not," a steely-eyed red-head stepped into view. Raga felt his bowels and bladder release as he recognised the woman as Lyta Alexander, a woman rumoured to have been altered by the Vorlons, a woman with an astronomical price on her head offered by Earth's Psi Corps, IPX, various criminal syndicates, and alien governments.

"I'm going to take it from you."

"AHHHHHHHHH!" Raga's back arched, a white hot pain blasted through his head, fiery fingers reaching into his skull, tearing into his brain like white-hot needles. "ARRRGGGHHHHHHH!"

* * *

Faith's eyes widened as the Brakiri flopped limply to the ground, drool running from his mouth and eyes bulging as he pawed at the ground beneath him. "Jesus, is he?"

"Dead?" Lyta's expression was slightly colder than a polar bear's nut-sac. "No, but he struggled a lot and I was in a mood so I tore the information from his mind without concern for his higher brain functions. It will be some time before he can do much for himself and so we are safe from anyone following us through him."

"Well that's reassuring," Xander looked like he was about to hurl. Either from the foul stench or what he'd just seen, either way she couldn't really blame him. "But did you get the information?"

"Yes," Lyta looked towards her bud, "it appears the object is on Centauri Prime."

"Oh dear," Lennier sighed.

"One way of puttin' it," Faith shook her head. "But I prefer 'ah crap'."

"Perhaps I can do you one last favour before we part company," G'Kar strode out into the corridor strewn with the broken bodies of Raga's guards. "I assume your ship has very powerful communications equipment?"

"You won't find any more powerful," Galen responded, the last of the injected drug's glassiness finally leaving his eyes and the last of his slur leaving his voice.

"Excellent, then I need to place a call to Babylon 5."

"No," Lyta shook his head. "I'm not-."

"Just a call dear," G'Kar soothed as they exited the building's turbo-lift, "just a call."

"Who to?" Xander asked a moment before she could.

"Ambassador Vir Cotto of the Centauri Prime," G' Kar replied.

"Freakin' sweet!"

* * *

"Oh, oh, oh, I shouldn't being doing this!" Vir shook his head, hands rubbing nervously together. "But on the other hand," Cotto tilted his head to one side. "It is for G'Kar and well it's G'Kar!"

"You realise we're already here, right?" Faith snorted as they walked the shadowed corridors that formed an illicit passageway to the docking areas. "Decisions been sort of made."

Vir shot the brunette stalking by his side a glare that bounced off her leather clad body. Oh he did so wish he could glare like Londo. But then if he could, maybe people wouldn't warm to him as they did.

Like the Earthers said, win some, lose some.

"That's as may be," Vir sniffed. "But one can't help regret being altruistic, especially when it's as risky as this."

"Sometimes it is the risk that makes actions worthwhile," Lennier commented.

Vir glanced at the Minbari. It ached him to see his old friend and fellow former aide after so long. He wanted to ask him how he'd been, but Lennier rarely opened up, and never in public. Instead he nodded. "My cousin will meet you outside Deserta. The city was bombed during our war with the Orieni Empire and has been uninhabited ever since, but there's still various criminal gangs that leave supplies and have hideouts, plus various rumours," he chuckled nervously, "but you know how rumours are."

"Behind every rumour is a hulking monster," the one-eyed human mournfully commented.

"However your biggest risk will be getting spotted by Centauri," Vir tittered nervously again. "My people have certain problems with Xenophobia."

"Gee, that sounds nasty, kinda, like gonorrhoea," Faith drawled. "Hope it ain't contagious."


	13. Chapter 13

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (13/?)**

Narn

Successive wars had blistered their land's landscape, leaving it a gouged, burnt land. Sadness bit deep into Na'Toth's soul as she peered down at the dusty ground. She was far too young to remember how Narn had been before the first war with Centauri. In fact she hadn't even born then, but she'd seen pictures, and knew the lush paradise Narn had once been. Rage surged hot inside her at the thought of their frequent oppressors, but was forced away as she recalled the words of the Book Of G'Kar.

"Ah, Na'Toth. It is a pleasure to see you."

Na'Toth turned, eyes widening as she recognised her fellow follower of G'Kar. "Ambassador Ta'Lon!" The former warrior's K'tok was as always fastened to his back. "I did not expect you back from Babylon 5 so soon."

The soldier turned diplomat scowled. "With my ambassadorial rank I immediately became a member of the Kha'Ri. With the attack on Staat I was called back for high-level discussions."

"Ah," Na'Toth nodded as she fell in beside her fellow former protégé of G'Kar as they started through the torch-lit, high-ceilinged corridors of G'Kamazad, "our people cry out in sorrow and demands for vengeance."

"They might find that more complicated than they think."

Na'Toth glanced at her companion. "G'Kar says one must never hate, but always fight for their survival and respect of other races."

"You don't know?" Ta'Lon spun to face her, his brow crinkling then smoothing as he nodded. "Of course, the Kha'Ri decided to keep the information as classified as possible."

"What information?" Na'Toth hissed.

Ta'Lon glanced either way, took her by the elbow and pulled her into the shadows. "Our investigations have turned up evidence that suggests the colony wasn't attacked from outside but rather the inside."

Na'Toth stared blankly at the former soldier. "It was a rebellion?"

"No," Ta'Lon shook his head. "Perhaps I could have been clearer. Whatever attacked had previously been buried far underground, but after the massacre fled to the stars."

Na'Toth's jaw clenched. "Then wherever they fled they will be hunted down and punished. This atrocity will not be allowed to stand! The Narn people cry for vengeance!"

Ta'Lon sighed. "And the cycle continues."

* * *

Kako Vuxi stared around the ships of their 'allies', his rapacious hunger threatening to overpower him, sending him and the rest of his brethren falling on these aliens and tearing their ships apart, to feast on their fear and flesh.

But they had their uses and their fear would be so much the greater when they realised the terrible magnificence and unstoppable power of those they served. That thought uppermost in his mind, he reached out mentally to the one who had so foolishly unleashed them. "Who are the powers of this universe."

He listened as the lesser lifeform babbled. Telling him of the disappearance of the First Ones, the seemingly eternal Minbari, the stagnating Narn and Centauri, the rising Earthers, and all the minor races besides. Next the voice told him all he knew of those that were on their side, the Drakh, the Streib, the Tak'Cha, the Lanatearn, and his own people, the Dilgar.

"This beacon of hope you say foiled your Warmaster Deathwalker, show me!" Kako Vuxi's demanding screech reverberated through the cosmos. His eyes narrowed as he tore an image of a grey long sphere rotating in space from his servant's mind. This was the place that brought hope to those without it, that punished the unjust, and stiffened the spines of those who trembled in fear?

Then it was only fitting this was the next place their army obliterated.

* * *

Dulann's eyes narrowed as he came to a stop in his search through Durhan's papers. Brow furrowed, he turned back to a pile of papers he'd just been through and started through it again.

The blood fled from his face as the papers confirmed what he'd been reading. "Minbari," he swallowed, "Minbari do not kill Minbari." His mind buzzing, he rose and hurried from his office.

He scarcely noticed the other Minbari he passed by, Anla'Shok and normal citizens alike parting before him. He made good time, and soon he was on his way through the passageways leading to the Entil'Zha's residence.

Suddenly a mind, an alien, hostile mind brushed against his slightly-telepathic consciousness. No, Dulann shook his head even as he glanced left and right, not one mind several. And yet, he couldn't see anything but the shadow-shrouded pillars lining either side of the passageway.

But the minds were definitely there.

Worry filled him as he increased his speed, boots clicking as he hurried through the silent, darkened corridor.

He spun on his heel as something shimmered to his right, stepping back as he did so, instinct snapping out an elbow that crashed into another assailant's jaw. Teeth flew as he lunged beneath the other attacker's backhanded Drazi blade-slash, his hand snapping up to palm-strike his other attacker in his chest.

The being crumpled and fell back into the shadows, but still another sprung out of the darkness. "Ahhhh!" Pain blazed through his back as he side-stepped to the left, snatching hold of the on-coming attacker's neck and flinging him away, but the assailant behind him thrusting a blade into him.

Dulann's vision blurred, suggesting his attacker's blade was poisoned. Dulann forced his pain aside, spinning on his heel in time to jam his forearm down and into the would-be assassin's knife arm while smashing his other forearm into his attacker's mouth. Instinct had him sidestepping to the left, his leg sweeping back to take the legs from under the man sneaking up behind him, sending him crashing into the man in front. Dulann's breath burnt in his lungs as he swayed away from his attacker's slashing knife, then his attackers disappeared just as suddenly as they'd materialised.

The last thing Dulann heard before plummeting to the ground was the sound of approaching footsteps.

* * *

"John!" Delenn rose as her husband rushed into the medical bay. "You have the report?"

"Yes," her husband looked grave. "The results from the crime scene don't make any sense. It appears whoever attacked Dulann was using some sort of cloaking technology." John paused. "Most of the blood found was Dulann's. But some of it was Dilgar."

"Dilgar," Delenn's hand flew to her mouth as her legs nearly folded under her at the mention of the horror that had almost submerged the galaxy in blood and fire just a few decades ago. "How is that possible?"

John's mouth opened, but before he could offer comment or comment the healer hurried in. "Anla'Shok Dulann is awake. He can have one visitor, but just one."

Delenn looked to John. "You're the Entil'Zha. He's your responsibility, you should go."

Delenn nodded gratefully before hurrying into the room. "Dulann," the younger Minbari opened his mouth. "Hush, save your strength."

The Anla'Shok ignored her command. "Sech Durhan was investigating Shai Alyt Shakiri. He had him killed."

Delenn shook her head, jaw dropping. "No, no, no." Shai Alyt Shakiri was a monster, but was he so warped by hatred that he'd work with the Dilgar?

"Evidence on the vid-com system, Password Tak'cha," the Anla'Shok gasped.

"Thank you for your service," Delenn took and squeezed the younger Minbari's hand before walking out, her face setting to stone as she looked towards John. "John, I'll need all the non-Minbari Anla'Shok, we have a very important mission."

* * *

An Unamed Moon

"What I want to know is why we all had to travel here to meet?" Lethke queried, eyes shooting left and right as they travelled through the tunnels beneath the moon's seemingly lifeless surface. "Most of the races called to this clandestine affair have ambassadors at Babylon 5."

"Not want Earthers to know about this," grunted his guide, a squat, thick-shouldered Drazi with deep-set eyes and the ill-manners customary of his race.

"And why is that exactly?" Lethke pressed as they started down a set of steep steps carved out of the moon's stone.

"Decide what to do about the attacks without interference from Minbari, Narns, and Earthers," the Drazi replied.

Lethke sighed inwardly. That was what he'd been afraid of. The optimist in him had hoped their fledging alliance would last for at least a few cycles, but it appeared that backroom deals were already occurring. Panic and fear as ever brought out the worst in people, regardless of their race.

Eventually their descent levelled out into a narrow corridor. "What is the place?"

"Secret Ranger base in the Shadow War," the Drazi grunted. "Abandoned."

Lethke nodded, their journey continuing in silence and passed many closed doors that he assumed were either dormitories, gyms, or storerooms. Finally his host let him into a well-lit semi-circular room filled with a variety of races. Abbai, Yolu, Pak'ma'ra, Grome, Gaim, Hurr, Llort, and others were all represented, but none of the major powers.

The Drazi looked to the Abbai and nodded. She moved to the front of the room, the races' representatives jostling their way to the two long tables dominating the centre of the chamber. Once they'd sat, the humanoid amphibian spoke in their race's traditionally soothing tones. "Greetings honoured guests, thank you for taking the time to come here to discuss a most grievous matter." The room fell into shocked silence as the Abbai continued and detailed the shocking slaughters of the Narn colony and Hyach homeworld, her lecture accompanied by a selection of shocking images and video film on the screen behind her.

"Who are these attackers?" the Drazi demanded in a bark.

The Abbai shook her head, her expression grave. "None of the intelligence reports the Rangers and Narns have shared with us shed any light on who our attackers are. Except they are very, very old."

"Is it the same attacker in both cases?" The Gaim's computerised voice came through its translator, lights flickering on the device.

"We think so," the Abbai nodded. "As far as we can piece together something rose from underneath Staat, destroyed the colony, then moved onto the Hyach homeworld."

"Why?" barked the Drazi.

"Why did this power rise? Why did they attack the Hyach?" the Abbai asked.

The Drazi shrugged. "Both."

"The answer to both is the same," the Abbai grimaced. "We don't know. What is sure is the attackers were of immense power."

"Will they attack others?" Lethke felt his throat dry at the very thought.

"It's unknown," the Abbai shook her head. "However the ferocity of their initial attacks suggests a blood-lust that would not be easily quenched."

The Grome's fists thundered down on the desk before it, gimlet eyes glaring out from within its head. "Where will it strike next?"

"We don't have enough information for that," the Abbai responded. "Only that they are savage, remorseless, and powerful."

"The Hyach were strong," commented the Llort. "If they could be so easily and thoroughly destroyed, what can we do against them?"

"We should gather our forces and hide," the Yolu suggested. "Not get involved, unless attacked."

"That didn't work so well during the Shadow War," Lethke felt he had to make the protest. His people were notorious as a race of wheeler-dealers, but this prospective betrayal made him almost physically sick.

"HA!" the Drazi barked. "Powerful they are, but no Vorlons or Shadows!"

"Which begs the question why are we not standing with our allies?" demanded Lethke. "There is strength in numbers."

Suddenly the Abbai representative spoke. "If we delay, hesitate for too long, all might be lost."

"The Queens say we hide," decided the Gaim.

"The wars of the past few years have sapped even our people's thirst for the thrill of battle," the Drazi added.

Lethke's heart sunk as the voting continued, voice after voice choosing to hide. Too late he understood why this meeting was taking place in such a secluded place. After all only the most shameless would want their cowardice paraded for all to see.

* * *

"Captain Lockley!"

Kate looked up from her notes as her exec burst into her office, face flustered. "David," she greeted as the officer hurriedly saluted. "I trust there's a reason you burst into here without knocking?"

"Yes sir," the exec dropped into the empty chair opposite her after a nod from her. "Five minutes ago all long range sensors went out. Two minutes after that long-range comms went out too."

"How far can we reach?" Kate's blood raced. It could be a simple fault, but with the obliteration of both Staat and Shir-shraba in recent days, it didn't do to believe too strongly in coincidence.

"Internal Bab-Com is up, but we can't reach even the nearest planet," Corwin paused then licked his lips. "There's something else."

"Oh?" Kate stared at her second.

"There were two transports and a diplomatic vessel from a new prospective ISA member scheduled in in the past hour, but neither have arrived."

Alarms went off on in Kate's head. "Move us to the next stage of alert," she rose. "Have the Alpha & Delta Wings start running patrols and get the techs working on boosting Comms, have them steal power from wherever they need but get on with it!"


	14. Chapter 14

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (14/?)**

The Great Machine, Eplison III

"No one listens to Zathras."

"Yes, yes," Draal shook his head as he struggled to hold onto his patience. "Selective deafness is a terrible illness." His nine now eight assistants were good-hearted, hard-working creatures but somewhat simple, and in tense moments like this, he really wished the universal force that had organised for him to caretake The Great Machine had also organised somewhat better assistance. "I promise I'll invest in a pair of hearing aids, but will it be ready in time?"

* * *

Yedor, Minbar

"Call not completed, Babylon 5 transceiver down."

"Damn it!" Sheridan's fist thundered into the desk as the computer reported his failure.

"Is it true?"

Sheridan didn't look up from the computer as he tapped furiously at it, he didn't have Garibaldi's knack for technology, "Shakiri had taken poison by the time the Rangers got to him, his last words were a taunt about an attack on Babylon 5. It's definitely not just a fault on the line, I can get through to the Earth Force Alliance Headquarters but not to Babylon 5." Finally he deigned to look at his wife. "At the very least the com links are down."

"I've ordered all White Stars in the area-."

"Belay that," Sheridan interrupted. "Half of them. If this is some sort of feint, we can't leave the rest of the sector unprotected." Yet even as he spoke, he knew it wasn't, this was the real deal, as real as it got.

* * *

Lochley strode into C&C, hiding her concern about the on-going situation behind a coolly professional expression. Her gaze swept over the bridge personnel, returning their nods with her own before locking eyes with her XO. "Status?"

Corwin glanced down at his station. "Civilians are being moved to designated shelters, engineering teams are readying for possible repairs, and security deploying in case of boarding. The defence grid is online and working at optimum efficiency. Communications is still unable to get through the interference, but we do have local, meaning I've contacted Captain Anderson on EAS Charon, I have apprised him of the situation, he is ready to give assistance."

"Good, that's good." Lochley peered at her own console, an anguished exhale escaping her as she realised just how grim the situation was. The static they were experiencing had compromised external long-range communications, and even radar was down, meaning the Hyperspace probes they had out as a matter of course were completely uselessly. Worse, the interference was somehow interfering with the Jumpgate, meaning many of the civilian ships in the vicinity couldn't escape the coming carnage.

"Captain!" Corwin let out an exclamation. "We have jump-points opening." The young man's eyes widened in horror. "Sir, there's hundreds of them!"

"Calm yourself," Lochley's heart thundered as she looked over to Comms. "Signal the Charon, tell them they're coming." Lochley glanced down at the console. "Close blast doors." Steel shutters slid down to cover the station's windows. "Activate defence grid." Dozens of laser batteries swivelled into position around the station's cigar shaped structure, power routing from the main reactor to the defence systems, ready to spew out fire to those who would dare to attack them. "Starfury squads, you have a go."

* * *

"My god," Anderson whispered as the first of the attackers swarmed out of the jump-points, a pre-natural horror filling and twisting his insides. Some of the ships he recognised, the Drakh and the Dilgar, but some of them he didn't, but it wasn't them that inspired the terror, but the enormous reptiles flapping alongside them.

Forcing away the terror, he looked towards the bridge personnel. "There's the enemy, pulse cannons and laser batteries ready, launch Starfuries."

The Omega-Class destroyer swept into action, launching itself forward to intercept the onrushing swarm.

* * *

"Enough gawking, back to work, people." Lochley's assertive tone sliced through the horror-filled bridge. "Mr. Corwin, order our Starfuries to engage the enemy ships, concentrate our cannon-fire on the dragons or whatever the hell they are!"

"Initialising the defence grid now."

Energy arced out of their cannons, the weapons slicing into the cawing beasts swarming around them, the dragons' flesh bubbling under the intense heat. Flames spewed from their dragons' fanged maws, searing space station's metal sides.

* * *

"XO! Order the starfury squads to clear a path to that monster at 28 degrees!" Anderson snapped, his heart pounding as his fingers pinched deep into his bridge chair. "Use the batteries on any that close, but save our front guns for that bastard up ahead."

"Yes sir!"

* * *

"Shields failing!"

Lochley fell to one knee as one of the Drakh ships crashed into the station's side, the attacking ship breaking up in a fireball even as the ship shook. Outside was carnage, the Starfuries taking hits from their grossly out-numbering adversaries, their pilots far more skilled but infinitely out-gunned and out-numbered. Simultaneously, the station's guns recoiled as they spat scorching energy at the fire-breathing monsters assailing them from every side. Wave after wave of their enemy crafts disintegrated before their station's determined defence.

Multi-coloured light beams criss-crossed as the two enemy forces fought ruthlessly to end their fight. Beams from Babylon 5 sliced a Drakh cruiser in two, a too close Streib cruiser caught in the erupting explosion, a Starfury barrel rolling out of the explosion's way even as it fired defiantly at another far larger Streib battle-cruiser.

In another part of hotly contested space, a trio of Starfuries were caught in a murderous cross-fire, unknown ships slicing through them from three directions, their returning fire vainly heroic.

"Keep going!" Lochley roared as she scrambled to her feet, then ducking as a nearby console exploded in sparks, the second lieutenant crouched over it falling away, her face igniting in fire. Lochley dropped to her knees by the screaming woman, yanked her own jacket off, and started putting the flames out. "I want them out of our sky!"

* * *

Cosmic flames engulfed the Charon as it flew through attack after attack, seared and scorched metal barely holding together as they flew nearer and nearer. The ship shuddered under the relentless barrage, its side guns spitting fire at the ships and dragons that dared to get too close, but its front guns remained silent.

Until now.

Anderson leaned forward in his seat, a makeshift bandage pressed to a bloody forehead wound caused by a falling floor tile. "PUNCH IT!" Fire burst out of the cannons on cue, scorching the monster's chest as it bent its head back and shot it forward, fire flying out of its gaping maw to blacken the front of their ship. Sparks flew as console after console exploded, but Anderson ignored it all. "Keep going," his free hand clenched and unclenched. "Keep going, full ramming speed."

They were dead, but by god, they were going to take one of these monsters with them.

* * *

"Oh this is bad, very bad." Vir tried to think of it ever being worst. But the usurpation of Cartagia, the war with the Narns, and even the Narn-Centauri war paled into insignificance next to -.

Suddenly the base tilted, flinging him and the other civilians packed into the shelter around. "Ooff," Vir saw stars as his head smashed into a wall, eyes widening as he heard an ominous screech, both hearts skipping as he realised the station was ripping apart, steel giving up the valiant fight.

"Ahhhh!" Vir screamed as white light engulfed him, seemingly trying to dislocate every bone and burn every ligament and tendon.

* * *

Seiko Matris peered down at the red scarred planet beneath, her wings flapping effortlessly as she cawed commands to those following her. It grieved her deeply to miss the attack but she had a mundane but far more important task of her own, to guide the first birth, and then guard the next generation of their proud warrior race to adulthood.

This would be the next generation, the next generation to be blooded, the next generation to strike terror into all those they faced.

She watched proudly as her fellow breeders swooped down into the dead planet's atmosphere, a dozen or so milky-grey shelled eggs around twenty feet long and ten feet wide dropping from each of the breeders' bellies. Dust billowed as the eggs landed deep in the dead planet's sand, the radiation in the air that would be so deadly to most other races acting as fertilisation for their eggs' growth and in each egg lay a whole host of further eggs all racing towards sentience.

* * *

Deserta, Centauri Prime

"Whoa," Faith gasped as she looked around what amounted to her first alien city.

What would have been towering spires had been stamped into the ground, walls meant to protect the city, crumpled and scorched, and the vast metropolis seemed eerily quiet.

"Centauri's war with the Orieni was relentless," even Galen's booming baritone was hushed in the creepily silent city. "The Centauri seemingly driven mad by the slaughter in this city, it could be argued that the loss of this city was what turned the tide and drove them to victory."

"What was the war between the Centauri and Orieni about anyway?" Xander hissed as he shot furtive looks left and right. "I've read the recent files on Centauri, but not their history."

"The Orieni were a race of avians led by a telepath caste they called the Blessed," Lennier explained. "It has been theorised by the Minbari that they were favoured of the Vorlons, such was their love of order. First contact between the Centauri and the Orieni occurred three centuries ago." Lennier glanced at Xander when he shook his head. "Am I in error?"

"What?" The one-eyed Watcher flushed and shook his head again. "No, sorry, I'm just struggling to imagine all these interstellar empires when we hadn't even invented the aeroplane."

"Ah," Lennier nodded before continuing his lecture. "The two races were the opposite sides of a coin. Orieni valued order and structure. The Centauri lived in Machiavellian chaos, with shifting powers, constant plotting and hidden schemes making for lives filled with intrigue. The Orieni were contemplative and chaste, the

Centauri debauched and decadent. Yet for all their differences, there were telling similarities. Both were Empires with subject planets and races held in thrall, both sought to expand still further, and both hated the other on sight. War was inevitable, and when the Centauri discovered the Orieni were clandestinely supplying Drazi raiders who preyed on Centauri shipping lanes, it erupted with force enough to burn the stars."

"Great," Faith muttered, even after decades the stench of ash still clung to the back of her throat, threatening to choke her, charred and cracked stone was underfoot, the wide streets skin-crawlingly empty.

Except, Faith's eyes narrowed as a shadow to her left seemed to almost shift. "I thought this city was supposed to be deserted?"

"It is," Galen replied. "The Centauri largely regard this place as a mausoleum to the war's dead. The only exceptions are unscrupulous smugglers who hide contraband here."

Faith glanced at the techno-mage. "I thought all Centauri were unscrupulous?" Faith snorted. "You'd think this city would have been the most crowded in the whole damn universe!"

"That is an unfortunate stereotype," Faith rolled her eyes at Lennier's lecturing tone. Damn Minbari wouldn't get a joke if it walked up and kicked him in the nuts. "While many Centauri have base, conniving natures, many such as Vir Cotto are capable of great nobility and courage. Even Londo Mollari would have moments of surprising gallantry."

"Yeah that's great," Faith muttered as she looked to the right this time. Okay, there was definitely something there.

Faith's eyes widened as a tall, green scaled creature dressed in full-length black robes shimmered out of the thick shadows. "Fuck!" Faith hit the ground and rolled out of the way of an energy blast that sizzled overhead, blackening a crumbling stone wall behind her. Her own gun came up, but her PPG blast shimmered uselessly off an invisible force field.

"FUCK!" Faith twisted out of the way of another blast, her gun firing repeated futile salvos into her enemy's shimmering shield, all too aware her companions were also coming out under fire from yet more Drakh.

"AHHHH!" Faith screamed as an energy blast hit her, searing pain tore through her. Teeth rattling and limbs shaking, Faith launched herself forward in a desperate lunge then screamed again as another blast shredded into her, black dots blurring her vision.


	15. Chapter 15

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (15/?)**

"In Valen's name," Sech Truval let out a gasp as they exited hyperspace at Babylon 5 having made the journey from Minbar in record time.

But to no avail.

Ship wreckage lay everywhere. Blackened hulls of Centauri pleasure liners and Narn transports floated alongside Earth Starfuries and beside them hung the malignant corpses of Streib, Drakh, and even, his blood chilled, some ships of the old enemy, Tak'Cha warships. Worse too was the torn apart wreck that had once been Babylon 5, now nothing more than rent, mangled steel. And the corpses, oh in Valen's name, the corpses, tens of thousands of them.

Truval turned to his second in command, heart weighing heavy in his chest. "Have the signal sent, we were too late, Babylon 5 is no more."

"Sech Truval!" His communications engineer called out, a Drazi, so he could forgive the Ranger the excitement he heard in his voice. "The Great Machine is contacting us!"

* * *

The underground cavern was hewn out of rock, cold, yet simultaneously dank, its solitary door made out of metal and controlled by a panel to the left.

"How is she?" Galen crouched down by the still writhing Slayer, it had taken four hits rather than the two the rest of them had endured to put down the Slayer, and because of the increased number of blasts, it was taking her considerably longer to come around.

"Uhhh!" Faith's back arched; sweat pouring off her as her muscles spasmed.

"It's okay Faith," Xander shot him a worried look, "you'll be okay."

"Can't you help her?" Lennier demanded.

"My talents don't lay particularly in the healing arts," Galen replied. "And even if they did-."

"Godddd," Faith squealed as she slumped to the ground, Galen noting with relief her body appeared more relaxed.

"The Drakh know what I am, they've put a dampening field around the roo-." Galen looked up as the door hissed open and a trio of Drakh glided in, a trio of Drakh, two Warriors flanking a Priest.

"You are of Shadow, you should stand with us," rasped the Priest in Drakh.

"My powers were borne of shadow," Galen replied in kind, rising to stand eye to eye with the priest. "But I chose to serve the light, I reject your foulness."

"Ahhh!" Energy blazed out of the Drakh's hand, its weapon blast hitting square on the chest, crashing him to the ground, smoke billowing off his torso.

"If you will not serve the shadow, you will die."

His companions rushed over to him the moment the Drakh had backed out of the entrance and closed it behind him. "Are you in pain?"

Galen glared up in Lennier. "I just took an energy blast in the chest, what do you think?" Galen directed his gaze towards Dureena. "Your skills would come in handy now, see if you can unlock the door."

* * *

Minbar

Babylon 5 gone.

Sheridan stared at the computer screen before him, lost in the mists of memory. He couldn't have dreamed the day he took charge of the space station that he and it would end up being the literal centre of the universe. So many memories, so many friends, relationships had been made there, battles won, tragedies endured, and laughs enjoyed.

All gone. Most of his friends had left, but others had remained. Allan, Lochley, Cotto, Corwin, and others. All dead.

"John."

He started slightly at the soft voice of the greatest blessing that Babylon 5 had gifted him. Looking up, he nodded briefly and put on his most purposeful tone. "I want the Interstellar Alliance to send Ambassadors to the Great Machine immediately, and I don't want any excuses, this is too damn important for their games and horse-trading."

"John-."

"You'll stay here," he overrode his wife, too angry to slow down his thinking, too angry to allow the grief to overwhelm him. "Get the White Star fleet ready, when we'll be responding we'll need every ship we can spare."

* * *

"Got it!" Dureena let out a satisfied cry. "One more press and the doors will slide open."

"Well done," Galen glanced towards his other companions. Faith was finally up, but still looking pale and sweating copiously. Deciding he couldn't risk to the Slayer right now, he looked towards the Ranger and the Watcher. "Flank the doors, should there be any Drakhs guarding outside, take them out." The moment the men were in position he looked towards the thief and nodded. The thief shoved a curved tool into the wall panel and twisted it.

The doors had barely begun to open when Lennier and Xander exploded into action. Lennier caught a turning Drakh with a palm strike to the face swiftly followed by a side thrust kick to the chest. The other Drakh was still reaching into his robe when Xander connected with an uppercut to the jaw, followed quickly by a left hook to the side of his head, and finishing him off with a knee to the gut, and an elbow to the back of the neck.

Galen blinked as the two Drakh hit the ground, bodies motionless. "Impressive." He'd expected the Anla'shok to be more than a match for a Drakh, but the Watcher had surprised him with his ability, but then if the young man was a demon hunter he supposed he really shouldn't be.

"Come on," Galen started out into the corridor, the others swiftly following behind, smiling slightly as he felt the circuits implanted within him firing back to life. Pain filled him, but also the comforting knowledge his powers were returning.

"We should get our weapons before we leave here," Faith commented.

"Yes," Lennier agreed in a whisper, "I worked hard to earn my denn'bok, I do not intend to lose it now."

Xander stopped by the corridor's first door, remaining eye narrowing. "If I was our captors, this is where I'd store our weapons, as it's the nearest room."

"Yeah, but I've been in your room, and you're a slovenly pig," Faith snarked as she came to a halt beside the young man.

"In my experience captors often store their prisoners' belongings near them," Dureena said as she crouched by the door panel. "I will attempt to unlock -."

"That won't be necessary." Electricity sparked as Galen ran his palm over the door panel. "My powers are back."

"Holy shit," Faith let out a gasp as the door slid open. "What is that thing?"

* * *

The jumpgate over Epsilon III rippled open, a trio of elegantly deadly White Stars bursting out. Sheridan stared balefully at the battlefield and the devastated wreckage not only of a space station but of a galaxy's hopes and dreams. He tensed as he sensed a very familiar presence behind him and heard the gasps of his bridge officers. "Stand down, people," he ordered as he turned to face the intruder.

"Captain Sheridan," Draal's normal ebullience seemed muted by current events. "I assume you are here to take residence on the planet's surface?"

Sheridan stared stony-eyed at the hologram, wanting like hell to rip into the Minbari, but not wanting to do it in front of the 'lower ranks'. "It seems our options for a summit are limited aren't they?"

"Just so," Draal appeared unmoved at the implied accusation. "I'll meet you when you land."

"I'll look forward to it."

* * *

Elation filled Galen as he stared at the eight feet tall funnel. "That is the Vanishing Pit," he announced.

"Huh, that's great," Faith peered up at the top of the funnel. "But how in the blue hell are we supposed to get this big honkin' thing outta here?"

Galen smiled. "Try and lift it." The Slayer shot him a doubtful glance before wrapping an arm around the Vanishing Pit's trunk and lifting it. Galen chuckled at Faith's gasp. "The First Ones had ways of creating alloys far lighter but far stronger than those that exist today." Galen looked around. "Let's get out of here."

"Back to the ship?" Xander queried. "Getting out of here's going to be a problem, especially with the Vanishing Pit."

"We're on this building's lowest level," Dureena commented. "There must be sewer access somewhere around here. We can get into that and crawl out that way."

Faith groaned. "Oh shit."

Lennier half-bowed. "Precisely."

Thirty stinking, tension-filled minutes and they arrived at Galen's cloaked craft, left in the grounds of an once-glorious domed mansion. Galen's eyes narrowed as his sensors picked up incoming silhouettes, figures not cloaked with the efficiency of the Drakh that had managed to sneak up on him earlier. "We've got trouble."

* * *

The seconds dragged as Draal awaited on the docks. There weren't many people capable of making him nervous, and even fewer of that number were human, but Sheridan wasn't merely a human, or even a soldier or diplomat, he was a force of nature, the sort of man who led conquering armies and bent worlds to his will.

He forced his back to stiffen and his shoulders to square as Sheridan's shuttle settled on the docks, the door hissing open and the legendary space warrior striding out, flanked by an honour guard of four Anla'shok, two humans and two Minbari.

"Captain," he forced a smile, "it is good to see you again, even in such dire circumstances."

By contrast Babylon 5's former commander looked anything but friendly. "And perhaps things may not be so dire if you'd entered the fight."

Draal had expected the accusation, but it stung nonetheless. "No Captain, we'd have made no difference, not in the long run, we had other duties."

"Other duties?"

"Walk with me," Draal set off, the President pausing to order his guards to stay with the shuttle before following him. "It's been a long time since the last time we spoke hasn't it? I've taken that time to observe and learn about this Great Machine. I now know its origin."

"I trust there's a point to this story?"

"There is," Draal fixed the Captain with the glare that he'd used on unruly students. "There isn't just one Great Machine, several were seeded throughout the universe by a lesser First Race-."

"What!" the soldier spun to face him, jaw agape.

"Not all of the First Races ascended, some merely died out, through disease, starvation, natural disaster, or attrition. The Builders of the Great Machines built them as a repository of information so should they fall there would hopefully be a record for survivors to discover. And the enemies who killed them are the enemies that plague us now."

The captain gasped as Draal summonsed a hologram of the attack on Babylon 5. "Revelations!"

"Yes," Draal nodded sombrely. "It seems that the First Ones programmed us with another genetic memory, a memory of these monsters and the horrors they're capable of. These monsters were known by many names – 'The All-Consuming Storm', 'The Crushing Terror', but most of all they were known by 'Devorar Dilim'."

"Can we," the Captain looked like he'd bitten into a particularly sour fruit, "can we negotiate with them?"

"You don't understand," Draal shook his head. "They don't want territory or vassals, they don't want to conquer merely to consume, and they're so very hungry. They're not native to this universe, but have eaten through the walls of existence to get here from another universe. They devour an entire galaxy and then move onto the next, constantly eating, constantly killing."

"Another universe?" the captain stared blankly at him.

"Yes," Draal nodded. "The First Ones believed that these creatures had been created at the dawn of time, an aberration that had no place in the natural order and so decided to destroy the order." Draal looked thoughtful. "It's my belief that these beasts destroy everything that exists on the physical plane, but creatures who have ascended to a 'higher plane' are beyond their reach. Then, when they've finished off a universe, they move onto the next."

"If the First Ones defeated them before they ascended, we can do the same," Sheridan commented.

"No," Draal shook his head. "The First Ones might not have reached ascension when they fought Devorar Dilim, but they were thousands of years ahead of us technologically, possessing weapons we couldn't dream of." Draal glanced around the awe-inspiring underground city. "Remember, the technology here is centuries ahead of that even the Minbari possess, and this was built by one of the lesser First Races who never achieved ascension."

"No," Sheridan shook his head, expression stony, "I don't believe there's such a thing as an unwinnable battle."

"You wouldn't be Starkiller or the victor of the Shadow-Vorlon war if you did," Draal replied. "However, your answer lies not solely in force of arms but in technology that the First Ones seeded throughout the universe in case of the monsters' escape from their prison."

"I'm listening," Sheridan grunted.

"The First Ones created a trans-dimensional prison called 'The Vanishing Pit'." Draal resisted the urge to shake his head, it was a mind-boggling piece of technology. As far as he understood it, the Vanishing Pit acted something like a black hole, but a black hole programmed only to drag in creatures with a Devorar Dilim's genetic structure, and was dimensionally transcendental, its exterior millions of times smaller than its interior. "I have no idea how this device worked, but it sucked all of the Devorar Dilim into it, imprisoning them, until somebody broke its seal."

"Then we need to find that Vanishing Pit and re-use it!"

"No," Draal shook his head. "Once a Vanishing Pit has been used it cannot be re-used. But the First Ones feared the Devorar Dilim may be inadvertently freed from their prison, and in addition to concealing the original Vanishing Pit-."

"They did a great job."

Draal ignored his companion's snark. "In addition to concealing the original Vanishing Pit, they seeded several dozen more throughout the universe should the Devorar Dilim be freed. A group already searches for them," Draal called up a hologram of the group. "I believe you know one of them."

"Lennier."

Draal blinked, credit had to be given to the warrior for his control. None of the expected hatred of a man who attempted to kill him, just a flat emotionless statement of fact. "Yes, they're an unique group. A rouge Anla'shok, a Techno-mage, the last survivor of a dead race, and a pair of time-travellers, one of whom is a supernaturally powered warrior."

Sheridan stared at him. "Tell me everything you know about them, the Devorar Dilim, and the Drakh's forces."

"One thing you need to know above all, Ikarra VII has been seeded with the next generation of Devorar Dilim."

"I'll do something about that," Sheridan muttered, eyes purposeful.


	16. Chapter 16

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (16/?)**

"I'd say," Faith replied as 'humans' burst out of the shadows, their eyes dark and cold as if their bearers were already dead. They didn't give off a demonic or vampiric vibe, but there was definitely something off 'bout them.

* * *

Xander gasped as the emotionless men charged out of the darkness shrouding them. Instinct took over as he dipped a hand into his jacket to pull out his PPG, but the man blurred to him before he'd finished drawing his weapon.

Lights exploded before his eyes and coppery blood filled his mouth when the man caught him with a right to the face. If not for all the years spent inhumanly strong creatures, the blow would have flattened him, fight over.

As it was, blind instinct carried him under the man's follow-up swinging left, hands shooting up to grab the man's wrist and yank him towards him. At least, Xander grimaced when his rival set his feet and whiplashed Xander towards him, that was the theory. Xander's feet left the ground as he flew towards his adversary.

Blood flew from his mouth when his opponent's free hand slapped across his face. Xander blinked furiously as he sought to clear his vision. He managed to sidestep an attempted knee to his midsection and block an elbow to the side of his head on his forearm, but then his opponent grabbed the hair on the back of his head and drove him face first into the wall.

* * *

Faith sidestepped the man's charge, noting that while he appeared human, no normal human moved with such speed and grace. Then she was parrying lefts and rights, all the blows blocked on her forearms or shoulders, but all impacting with unexpected power. The moment she saw an opening, instinct took over, her left foot streaking out to thud into the man's midsection between his guard's elbows.

Faith's eyes widened when the man grunted but failed to fold after her attack. There weren't many men who could stand up to a full-powered Slayer kick to the guts.

Rather than fold, the man swarmed in, throwing in kicks and chops with all the majesty of a Bruce Lee flick. "Fuck!" Faith grunted as she struggled to keep pace with the madman, wriggling between his attacks with mere fractions of inches to spare. The world slowed to a crawl and turned crimson when she saw Xander crumple. Her hands shot out, hands swinging together in a clap that ended with her palms crashing into the man's ears, bursting his eardrums. The warrior's shrieking stumbles were ended by her foot to his nuts, and then she was blurring across to Xander's side.

The man stood over her best bud started to turn towards her, but she glided inside his attempted thrust kick, hooked her arm around his calf, and held it tight while driving her free palm across her body and into his knee. "Ahhh!" The man let out an unholy scream as his knee popped out of the socket, Faith's free hand swinging up into a backhand across his face even as her foot snapped down into the man's grounded ankle.

Bone snapped as the man crumpled, body crashing to the ground, Faith's foot swinging up to thud into his head. "Down and out," Faith muttered, her heart sinking as she crouched over Xander's battered body, blood leaking from his swollen mouth and his nose, and scooped him up. "Don't worry hon," she murmured, "I gotcha." Faith looked over her shoulder. "Someone else grab a hold of that Vanishing Pit, girl's got her hands full!"

"What were those things?" Dureena demanded as Lennier and she lifted the Vanishing Pit between them. "I was unaware humans could fight like that."

"We can't," Galen replied as he crouched over the two of the men he'd put down. "However if I was to guess, Earth's black project division has been completing rudimentary experiments into cybernetics. They've been trying to get their hands on a Technomage for over a decade."

"Are we just gonna talk or are we gettin' outta here?" Faith snapped.

"Yes," Galen rose, "doubtless this disturbance might have drawn our captors' attention. We should get out of here as soon as possible."

* * *

Proxima III

"So you served with Sheridan?" Captain Matthew Gideon of the EAS Cook knew he sounded like some sort of fan-boy, but he didn't much care. "That must have been something."

His companion, the bearded Captain of the EAS Cortez smirked slightly. "Technically he served under me."

"Huh," Gideon grimaced inwardly at his faux paus. "Eh, yes sir."

"The sir's not needed son," Captain Maynard smiled beatifically at him. "We're all Captains here."

"Are you one of the Sheridan faithful, Captain Gideon?" Captain Takashima queried.

"It's fair to say I'm an admirer," he replied with a nod towards the attractive oriental seated at the far end of his office. "You served on Babylon 5 didn't you?"

"As First Officer, but that was under Sinclair before things got really interesting," Captain Takashima chuckled. "Still, it was a real wild place even back then."

"Yes," Gideon's seat creaked under him as he leaned forward with hands clasped and elbows resting on the desk before him, "I've never had the fortune to visit Babylon 5, but its history has always fascinated me-."

"Sir!" Gideon raised an eyebrow as his second rushed into his office without knocking. He favoured informality in his subordinates but there were limits, especially when he was with his peers. Even as he opened his mouth to reprimand the young man, his second spoke. "Sir! There's been an incident; a jumpgate's opened thirty minutes away from Proxima III!"

"Spit out the details, Lt.," Maynard growled then nodded apologetically in his direction.

"The sensors are reporting it's a Dilgar super weapon, escorted by several dozen of what they believe to be Drakh ships."

"Captains," although Gideon was the junior of both of his companions, both in years and experience, it was his ship, so he felt obligated to take control. "I'm sorry to cut our meeting short, but I'll alert the shuttle bays to expect you to take you back to your ships, and while you're journeying back, I'll alert your ships of the problem we've discovered, in addition to contacting the planet and requesting they put their forces at our disposal." Gideon looked to Maynard. "Sir, as the Captain with the most seniority, you'll of course take charge."

"I concur," Captain Takashima nodded.

"Very well Captains, no time for discussion, let's get a move on," Maynard hesitated, "the moment we're off the ship…"

"I'll move to intercept," Gideon smirked. He had one of his wild ideas about this supposed Dilgar weapon.

"Good luck Captain," Maynard smiled back before looking towards Takashima. "Shall we?"

* * *

"Yes, and stopping that particular harvest is all very important," Draal boomed. "However, I need you to meet someone very important." Sheridan opened his mouth then shrugged, as always befuddled by the bombastic Minbari, instead he followed in the alien's wake, wondering just how and why his world was so damn complicated. "The Great Machine can do many wondrous things, including even teleportation-."

"Teleportation?" Sheridan as usual struggled to keep up with the Minbari.

"My good President, if you don't mind," Draal marched down a brightly-lit passageway. "I knew there was one very important person on-board Babylon 5 that we'd need if any attempt to defeat our enemy is to be successful."

"Oh?" Sheridan's eyes narrowed as he attempted to struggle out the name of this exceedingly-gifted warrior. His jaw dropped as a short, pot-bellied Centauri stepped out of the shadows, tears rolling down his rounded cheeks. "Vir!"

"Yes," Draal nodded and smiled, "Ambassador Cotto," Sheridan blinked, "will be integral."

"How-."

"I didn't ask to be saved Mr. President," the Centauri sobbed before looking towards Draal, "not that I'm not grateful, but I don't think I deserved saving over all those other people."

"Deserved? Maybe not," Draal thundered, "but have you considered that you're needed?"

Vir did a credible impression of a goldfish before replying. "Needed?"

"Mr. President," Draal's attention returned to him. This Minbari kept him more off-balance than his entire damned mysterious race. "As I said The Great Machine can achieve many marvels, but mostly it just watches. Of particular interest are the Drakh-."

"You know the Drakh?" Sheridan growled. "And why haven't you brought this up before?"

"You never asked." Sheridan ground his teeth at Draal's answering shrug. "The Drakh are old, older even than the Minbari. Yes," Draal nodded at his gasp, "there remain those older than us. They've served the Shadows for half a million years." Draal shook his head. "A race can become steeped, no soaked, in evil in that length of time. Their crimes and cruelty are the thing of whispered nightmares and their infamy is spread through dozens of star systems and on hundreds of planets." Draal paused. "You're familiar with the Keepers?"

"Dr. Franklin and Marcus encountered one," Sheridan replied.

"They're one of the Drakh's most insidious yet most potent weapons," Draal continued. "I understand Londo Mollari gave you a Centauri urn for your son just after he ascended to the imperial throne?" The hairs prickled on the back of his neck as he nodded slowly, a terrible foreboding filling him. "I'd strongly advise you destroy it, Londo gave it to you so your son would become possessed by the Keeper inside it."

"But he wouldn't!" Vir protested, the Ambassador's voice taking a broken note of a man whose idol had disappointed them once again.

"No, not willingly," Sheridan had a sickening moment of clarity, much that had been 'off' since the Shadows' demise seeming to sharpen and focus, "but he's possessed by a Keeper."

"Very perceptive, Captain." Draal pressed on a hand-held remote, a shimmering image springing up on wall. Sheridan's jaw dropped as he watched Mollari take a Keeper, in part to protect his people and in part to save his bitterest rival and possibly best friend, G'Kar. Sheridan blinked as Draal spoke, the Minbari's voice oddly respectful. "Of all the things I've seen, I doubt I've ever seen a nobler sacrifice." Draal paused. "Fortunately however there's a cure for the Keepers."

"Let's hear it?" Sheridan demanded.

Draal nodded. "The Drakh came across an advanced peoples, the Disceni, fifty thousand years ago. Unfortunately for these advanced peoples, their specialities lay in the sciences rather than the military, and as a result while they were able to fashion a drug that both detected and killed the Keepers without harming their captives, thus balking the Drakh's initial attempts at a covert infiltration. Unfortunately for them however, they had little military infrastructure, so when the Drakh came in force, they obliterated them, seeking to destroy not only their culture, but their cure. Luckily for us they failed."

"Then we can save Londo!" Vir gasped.

"More than that," Sheridan stiffened his shoulders. "We can save the Centauri."

"Ah," Draal sighed. "If only it was that simple. Already some of the ambassadorial ships are orbiting this planet; some of the other races will not be easily swayed into forgiving and accepting the Centauri."

Sheridan smiled coldly. "Easily or otherwise, they'll be swayed."

* * *

Gideon stared stiff-backed and square-jawed at the Dilgar super weapon, the Drakh escort buzzing like flies around it. The ship was a monstrosity, perhaps a mile long and probably twenty stories high at its front while tapering down to perhaps a couple of stories at the rear, a hundred or so twenty feet long spokes ringing its face. The entire thing seemed to shimmer constantly, its difficult to visualise colour best described as fear itself. The one good thing about the dreadnought was its immense size meant they'd gotten perhaps five minutes longer than their original estimate, the thing seeming to lumber rather than fly through space. Gideon checked the panel in front of him, but they'd be in firing range of its escort in five minutes.

"Sir!" his first officer strode up to him. "I have the schematics on the super-weapon, we believe its an atmosphere killer, it'll cause every manner of natural disaster on the planet, forcing it into a series of hurricanes, volcanoes, earthquakes, tidal waves, everything, and it won't stop until the planet's plunged into an ice age."

"Well we can't let that happen." Gideon smirked as one of his mad ideas began to take shape. "Have we any of those missiles left from breaking up that asteroid field?"

"Four sir."

"Ready them," he snapped before looking towards Navigational, "Helms, open me a jumpgate."

"Co-ordinates, sir?" Helms had a look of disbelief.

"Where that planet-killer will be in two minutes," he ordered. Ignoring the bridge's collective gasp, he looked towards Weapons. "The moment the jumpgate goes active, I want you to send those missiles straight down its centre."

"Sir-."

"Those are your orders," Gideon interrupted before any protest could gather pace. "The moment the missiles are launched, I want you to retreat at full speed."

Helms nodded. "Yes sir."

The seconds crawled by, sweat forming on Gideon's forehead as he fixed his eyes on the approaching Dilgar weapon, ignoring the firing of its escort, knowing they'd have to be extremely lucky to get even close to them at this distance. Gideon let out a roar, the tension exploding from him like lava from a volcano the moment the jumpgate glowed into life. "PUNCH IT!"

Four missiles gusted out of his ship, energy streams pulsing behind them. "Get us out of here!" he yelled. The ship began turning, but like one of those old oil tankers of the twentieth century it took a long time to turn an Explorer class ship, and they were still broadside on when the missiles hit their target. Gideon jerked his eyes away when the jumpgate turned into a fiery vortex, multi-coloured light blossoming in the sky. The cosmic eruption first engulfed the enemy ship, tearing great chunks of metal from it and igniting fires across its surface in its heedless rampage, but then cascading back at them, a wave of energy hitting his ship, and twisting it around like a dingy caught in a whirlpool. Wave after wave hit the ship, flinging it around like some insane roller-coaster.

"Ahhh!" Gideon let out a howl as he was flung from his seat to the floor, the ship flipping over again, circuits blowing in practically every circuit, the lights suddenly dimming.

And then it was over, the ship lying silently in space, the Dilgar super-weapon torn asunder into a hundred smouldering pieces, but several of the Drakh ships still intact and ominously converging on their position, deadly predators ready to snack on their helpless body.

Gideon spat blood on the floor before pulling himself up onto his command chair. "Congratulations on the destruction of the Dilgar planet-buster, people," Gideon praised as he wiped blood away from a cut above his left eye. "Now let's see what we can do about the rest of those ships."

"Sir!" his first officer let out a squeak. "Everything bar life support and internal communications is out, it'll take the best part of an hour to get weapons running, longer for helms and engi-."

"Then," Gideon smiled, "let's enjoy our victo-." Gideon forced the lump down as he looked around the devastated deck. "People, it was an honour to ser-." Gideon gasped as the Cortez slid in-between them and the advancing Drakh, taking blast after blast meant for them, the ship's shields first scorching, then buckling, and finally breaking away in an inferno that left his belly colder than ice.

And then Takashima's Columbus flew over, its cannons spitting fury at the Drakh ships, tearing through them with unbridled rage, each plasma shot turning another ship into sparks and fire.

* * *

They were all here, all the major powers of the Interstellar Alliance. Sheridan watched them as they watched Draal's unearthed footage. Sheridan had always been a good poker player, good at reading his opponents. That was more difficult with alien faces, but he could sense the disbelief, anger, and hatred circulating the packed room.

The moment the clip had ended, Sheridan spoke before any one had chance to comment. "As you can see from this clip and others we've played for you, the Centauri have been manipulated since the end of the Shadow War and perhaps even before then," he began. "They're just as much victims as anyone-."

"Victims?" the Drazi ambassador snorted. "The Centauri make victims of others!"

"You wish to move for a repeal of sanctions?" Rathenn queried, the Minbari having been sent to replace his people's deceased ambassador.

"Unacceptable!" roared the Drazi.

"You've seen the footage," Sheridan opted for a reasonable tone. Drazi and reason were never the closest friends. "The Centauri were conned into such actions-."

"My people," this came from Na'Toth, the Narn leaning forward in his seat, "will not accept the Centauri back into the Interstellar Alliance!"

"But you've seen the evidence," this unexpected aid came from Earth's representative, his own father actually on an emergency mission. "The Emperor is not in control-."

"And Ambassador Sheridan," Na'Toth interrupted with a polite nod. "What of the Centauri emperor who first conquered my people? Who wiped the Xon and Shoggren out? Who destroyed the Orieni? Were the Centauri under an alien's malicious spell then?"

"Many are the races that have suffered beneath the Centauri boot!" barked the Hurr. "We do not forgive nor forget!"

"The Centauri are still a powerful race for all the devastation done to them," Sheridan pointed out, his tone level despite the growing frustration churning inside him. "We're going to need this power if we have a hope of defeating these dragons."

"Yes, we need their strength to aid us in the fight!" commented the Yolu representative.

"I can't deny your words," Na'Toth shook his head. "But my people will never agree to work with the Centauri. The hatred in them runs too deep."

"And what is hate?" Sheridan's inward scowl turned to an open smirk at the voice of an old friend and just the man to turn this around from behind him.


	17. Chapter 17

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (17/?)**

"And what is hate?" Sheridan watched as his friend strode in, his baritone voice and commanding presence causing every eye to be drawn to him. "Does it provide food to fill your children's bellies? Does it put a roof over your family's heads? Does it give you the hope to reach for greatness? Does it inspire great art? No," G'Kar shook his head, "hatred leads to ethnic cleansing, torture chambers, concentration camps. Hatred doesn't create, it can only destroy."

"G'Kar," Ta'Lon interrupted, "your words hold great reverence to myself and all of our people." Ta'Lon leaned forward in his seat. "That said, I am a warrior, and I know that hatred is ever a part of war, and foul though war is, sometimes it unavoidable."

"No!" G'Kar clenched his gloved hands. "Fight your enemy if you must, but never hate them, for hatred is a path that leads not to victory but cruelty, sadism, and atrocities. When you hate the enemy that pillages your land, you take the first step to becoming them!"

The Drazi began to rise over his seat. "The Centauri-."

"The Centauri have perpetrated many acts of barbarism, and yet, when you hear of their innocence in other occurrences, you still wish to press your vendettas!" Sheridan hid a smile, G'Kar was as blunt as always. "If you continue to pick at the wounds of the past, how will they ever heal?"

Sheridan plunged into the silence that followed G'Kar. "If we don't ignore past conflicts, past wars, the chances are we won't survive this battle."

"And if we haven't learnt from the past and its mistakes," G'Kar paused, a great sadness filling his eyes, "maybe we don't deserve to."

* * *

"Ah hell!" Faith groaned as the Techno-Mage threw his ship left then right, forcing his passengers to cling to their seats as he desperately attempted to avoid the pursuing Drakh ships' searing blasts. "They're sticking to our tails like guys who've seen my ass in a g-string."

"Really?" Xander shot her an irritated look. "You're gonna talk about your ass at a time like this?"

"Hey," Faith bounced in her seat as their ship shuddered under yet another blast, "I figure the last thing I should talk 'bout is something close to my heart."

"Your anatomy's all to hell you know?" Xander queried.

"High-school dropout," Faith winced as their ship lurched into a spinning downward roll, "whadda you expect?"

Lennier stared at them both in disbelief. "Humans are mad!"

"What you only just noticed?" Faith queried as the Pinnace's sudden upward trajectory pressed them back into their seats. "Kudos on the observation skills!"

"Our shields have gone," Galen reported tersely. "Another couple of hits, and we're gone."

"No chance of fighting them off?" Xander queried.

Galen let out a low chuckle as he yanked the ship hard to the left, white light flashing past the window. "There's not many ships that can take a dozen Drakh Heavy Raiders on single-handed." The Techno-Mage let out a gleeful laugh. "But suddenly that's not a problem."

Faith's brow furrowed at the Techno-Mage's words. Even as her lips parted in an impatient query, jumpgates rippled into life in the sky before them. Breath gusted from her lungs as what Faith recognised from the Techno-Mages' files as a quartet of White Stars glided into the space in front of them. She might have seen pictures of the Anla'shok battle cruiser, but mere pictures utterly failed to convey both their elegant beauty and terrifying majesty. Lasers blazed out of the White Stars, bypassing their ship en-route to engulfing their Drakh pursuers in a wall of flame.

"President Sheridan and Entil'zha Delenn send their greetings," a stern, definitely Minbari-sounding voice crackled over the ship's intercom, "and cordially extend an invitation of an escort to our temporary headquarters on Epsilon III."

"Yeah!" Faith punched the air. "Finally I get to meet some celebs. Ain't Kid Rock, but it'll do."

"Oh god," Xander shuddered. "This is gonna be so embarrassing."

* * *

"Sech Turval has just exited Jumpgate, he sends his compliments and reports that he's completed his mission, he's found Galen and his companions, they'll be docking in quarter of an hour."

Sheridan nodded curtly at his aide's response. His stomach churned, filling with angry acid at just the thought of seeing Lennier again, but now of all times, he had to stay professional. "Thank Sech Turval for his prompt efficiency and tell him I'll meet him at the dock."

"Of course, President." The Anla'Shok melted into the darkness even as Sheridan glanced at his ever-present security escort and started off towards the dock.

Fifteen minutes wasn't a long amount of time, and yet apparently minutes seem to drag in a near eternity when one's waiting to meet their would-be killer. Finally however a shuttle hummed into the already crowded docking port, floating to a graceful stop. Sheridan's foot drummed an impatient beat as he waited for the Ranger shuttle to hiss open and its passengers to disembark, his heart thumping harder with every new arrival. His eyes bored into Lennier when his former ally clambered out of the shuttle.

"President Sheridan."

"Sorry," Sheridan apologised as he glanced sheepishly towards the senior Anla'Shok. "I was distracted. Congratulations on your successful mission."

"Understandable," Turval shot Lennier a disdainful look, "given the circumstances."

"Yes," Sheridan managed an uncomfortable nod. He and Delenn had hushed up Lennier's attempted assassination, but his desertion of the Anla'Shok was common knowledge and even the Minbari and Anla'Shok gossiped. He squared his shoulders and forced himself to run an eye over his guests. Sech Turval and his fellow Rangers were their usual impassively disciplined selves, the only one he'd ever met that wasn't cut from the same cookie cutter mould being Marcus. The technomage on the other hand carried himself like the rest of his imposing people, but there was something in his eye, a spark or a gleam that suggested he had a lust for life, for living, that those of his people Sheridan had met didn't share. The alien woman moved with an effortless grace that marked her as a predator, but then that was hardly surprising given what his intelligence service had managed to find out about her.

The two time-travellers were even more intriguing. At first the male looked the affable joker with wavy hair, slouched shoulders, and an easy grin. Of course that preliminary impression was debunked by his eyepatch and the functional not gym-pretty muscles concealed beneath the young man's clothes.

And then there was the woman. A quite breath-taking beauty, with midnight tresses cascading down to her shoulders and surrounding her heart-shaped face, expressive limpid eyes, and full lips made for laughing or kissing. A man less experienced in war could lose himself in her beauty and fail to notice her silken, effortless grace and explosive, barely-contained power.

And then of course there was Lennier.

"This way," Sheridan barely managed not to snap before crisply turning and striding down a corridor, "I've organised a conference room for your debriefing, and quarters for everyone. We're crowded down here, but living quarters are quite extensive."

"How efficient," Galen complimented. "You've organised quarters and all we've brought is a way to capture these monsters."

Ah yes, Sheridan's head began to throb. Never mind time travellers and treacherous friends, technomages were an acquired taste and flavour all of their own. Minutes later and they were entering an oval-shaped room with a gleaming long table in the centre of it.

"I'll take up guard on the door, President," Sech Truval commnted. "Ensure you're undisturbed."

"Thank you," Sheridan nodded at the senior Anla'shok as his guests filed into the room, then followed them in, closing the door behind him. Long seconds passed as he stared at a squirming Lennier, unable to put his fury and hurt into words.

"You know," Faith's husky drawl broke into his glare, "I've read all about you and you seem to be this wicked cool war hero. Never read anythin' 'bout the stick up your ass tho?"

Sheridan shot the brunette a glare that glanced off her silken skin as if it was a rhino's hide. "Excuse me?"

"Oh god," the one-eyed man shook his, "everywhere we go, even the future, it's always the same, she leads with her mouth."

Faith ignored both him and her companion, but then he sensed that she was a woman that when she got started took a hell of a lot stopping. Almost like a much blunter Delenn. "No-one's denyin' Lennier's done you wrong, but even a blind one could see his remorse." Faith looked towards the one-eyed man. "He-."

"Oh god," the one-eyed man looked like he wished he could sink into the floor cracks, "don't involve me."

"Forgave me after I straddled and half-choked him to death and tried to kill his entire graduation class."

Xander reddened and smiled weakly as every widening eye turned to him. "Imagine my therapy bills."

"So you can forgive him," Faith shot Lennier a grin before looking back at him, "for making a mistake."

Sheridan hardly thought that attempted murder qualified as merely 'making a mistake', but his own concerns were unimportant in the context of their greater battle. Whatever else he was, Lennier was a more than competent warrior, something that was at a premium in these turbulent times. "Forgive perhaps, but never forget," he warned with a glare before continuing, "I have a mission for you."

"Oh goody," the Slayer casually swung her boots up onto the desk, "I get bored hangin' 'round doin' nothin'."

* * *

The Earth President spoke as the footage of the battle over Proxima III ended. "The Captains and crews of the EAS Cook, Cortez, and Columbus are to be commended for their bravery." The President's dry, Russian tones paused then continued. "It appears from the destruction of the Narn outpost, the destruction of Shir-shraba, the devastation of Babylon 5, and this attempted assault on Proxima that our enemy is ferocious, ruthless, and numerous." The President paused. "Did anyone have any idea that the Dilgar were still out there?"

"No Ma'am," the chief of Earth Intelligence shook his head. "We've searched for both them and their technology in the decades since their defeat. But apart from the Deathtalker fiasco, nothing."

"I've read the reports on these Striebs and Lacertans," the President continued. "But these Drakh and the Tak'cha are a mystery to me."

Earth Intelligence grimaced. "And to Intel, there's fragments of the Tak'Cha being somehow related to the Minbari. But the Minbari themselves don't like to talk about them, they're some sort of taboo subject. We know a little more about the Drakh. Apparently the Drakh are a middle-born race, older even than the Minbari." A round of mutters filled the room at the idea of any remaining race being older than the aliens who'd almost brought Earth to its knees. "They were a servant race of the Shadows who they believed to be gods, serving them loyally for eons. In return for their service, the Shadows gifted them with technology and powers far beyond what they could achieve on their own."

"They sound like they have the potential to be powerful allies, has anyone looked into the chance of working some sort of treaty with them?" queried the Interstellar Secretary.

"From all reports they make the Dilgar look like a crew of space pirates," Intel shook his head. "If we even tried, we'd be the outcasts of the space-faring community, no one would trade with us, every other treaty we have would be considered broken, every other empire or space-faring power would consider us enemy and more than a few would seriously consider going to war with us."

The Interstellar Secetary smiled wryly. "That would be a no then."

"Madam President," the bull-necked, stevedore-shouldered Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff let out a growl, "Sheridan's requested the assistance of ALL powers in putting together a force to fight this attack."

"And what would be your recommendation?" the President demanded.

The Chairman's squashed flat nose wrinkled. "On the one hand this looks to be a major engagement, a major engagement where aliens could well be commanding humans into battle." The Chairman scowled. "On the other, Sheridan has a certain messianic status with many of the alien races. If we refuse a call by him at such an important time, many of our trading partners, the Minbari, the Narn Regime, Brakiri Syndicrary, Ipsha Baronies, Gaim Intelligence, Drazi Freeholds and others, might well be less eager to deal with us if we choose to sit this one out."

"On the other, other hand," Intel smiled dourly before continuing, "if we don't pull all our forces back to defend Earth, there might not be an afterwards."

"Yes," Earth President forced back a sigh. These were the weighty decisions that went with her lofty rank. So many factors to consider – the tactical, economical, political, and of course the moral. "I've decided to call all conventional forces back to defend all of Earth's holdings. However," she paused and licked her lips, "all of you in this room are aware of Clark's Operation Attila?"

"That was his project financing IPX and their like to seek out any ancient technology that could be adapted for use by EarthForce military, correct?" queried the Interstellar Secretary.

The Earth President nodded. Clark's paranoia was widespread and obsessive, and had certainly led Earth into some very dark places indeed, but it had also turned up some useful technology. It had taken several years, both during and after Clark's reign, but finally Operation Attila was bearing fruit. "Thanks to the technologies discovered, we have been busy manufacturing a new class of warship, the Legend class. We currently have three wings of nine – Olympian, Aesir, and Round Table completed, and a further three wings in planning\construction." A 3d image shimmered into life at the centre of the desk of a long blue and grey spaceship with a hammer's nose at the rear and front, and scimitar-like wings flanking its middle, a dome also jutting out of the top of the middle. "A Legend class ship is faster, more durable, more manoeuvrable, and heavier armed than anything we've got, and we believe they're even a match for a Minbari war-Cruiser." The Earth President paused. "I propose that we send all twenty-seven of them to Sheridan's aid while pulling the rest of our forces back to protect our holdings."

"And who would lead this force?" demanded the Interstellar Secretary.

"Given Gideon's previous success against our current enemy and good although at times unorthodox record, it's been decided to promote him to Colonel," the Chairman continued over the others' gasps, "and give him command of Operation Paratrooper."

"A man jumping all those ranks!" protested the Interstellar Secretary. "Why that's practically unheard of!"

"Precisely," the Earth President agreed. "That's why he's been chosen. If he succeeds, then we'll finally have a figurehead to match Sheridan. If he fails," the Earth President shrugged, "then I doubt very much we'll be around to rue the mistake." The President paused. "In addition, I've assigned Lt. Colonel Ivannova to act as our liaison to the Interstellar fleet, specifically as it pertains to Sheridan."

* * *

"The EAS Arthur," Colonel Gideon muttered as he peered out of the shuttle window and at the massive two kilometre long war cruiser that was now his new command and his flagship. And it was far from the only dreadnought hovering in the sky, over two dozen of the huge warships hung in earth's orbits, dwarfing both the shuttles ferrying their crews to them and defence satellites pointing pulse canons out to space. Only the huge docking stations anchoring the ships were larger.

His new command. Gideon shook his head at events' frenetic speed. First had come the dark, unbelievable rumours, then there'd been the attack on Proxima III, then his debriefing by the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the shattering news of the destruction of Babylon 5, and finally his shock promotion and new orders.

Not only was he leading the EAS contingent into battle against a horde of apocalyptic monsters, he was doing so at the behest of his hero, John Sheridan. But first he had a mission to complete, the destruction of Ikarra VII and the swarm of enemy eggs planted there.

* * *

Twisted, burnt iron hung in the sky as far as the eye could see. Garibaldi's chest twisted as he stared at the scorched remains of what had been the five most memorable and eventful years of his life. Babylon 5 gone, and with it old friends like Allan, Lochley, Hobbs, and Corwin.

It could almost drive a man to drink.

Garibaldi let out a hollow laugh before glancing towards Helm control. "Patch me a channel through to the surface."

"At once, sir."

Ten seconds later and the screen before him flickered into life to reveal an Earth Ranger. "Hello, this is Michael Garibaldi, CEO of Edgar Industries," he said, "I'd like permission to dock."

"I'm sorry sir," the Ranger replied. "This planet and system is off-limits to unauthorised vessels. I'll organise you an escort out through the nearest jumpgate."

Garibaldi's back stiffened. Did nobody know their history out here? "Damn it son, I was Security Chief of B5 for four of the most godforsaken years you'd ever wish to suffer. Hell, I was on board when we first discovered the Great Machine! I'm not here on a sight-seeing visit, son. I've seen all of the Great Machine and more of space's dirty holes and dark places that you could ever dream of. I'm here 'cause Garibaldis haven't been able to turn their back on a-."

"Sir," if a Ranger could look panic-stricken, this one did, his face paling and eyes widening, "I don't have the authority to-."

"Then get someone who has," Garibaldi was on a tear now, "get Draal or President Sheridan if you can get him away from kissing babies and shakin-."

"Mr. Garibaldi!" A familiar and very welcome voice suddenly roared in the background. "When you're quite done terrifying Delenn's Rangers! You know how partial Delenn is to them, any you tear or break, you replace!" Suddenly Sheridan appeared on the com-screen. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah?" Garibaldi shifted in his seat, past failings in the last year at Babylon 5 still making conversations between him and Sheridan uncomfortable at least on his side. "Then I assume I'm welcome at this little shindig you're throwing?"

"More than welcome," Sheridan's smile widened. "I wouldn't have it any other way. In fact I've got a job for you."

* * *

"Michael!" Sheridan met him as he came down the shuttle's walkway. "It's good to see you! Is Lise well?"

Garibaldi smiled. This was the first time they'd met in person since they'd left Babylon 5, and yet it seemed like only yesterday. "She's fine, Delenn?"

"Angry as hell she's not here," Sheridan smiled. "Something I thank David for every day."

"I can imagine," Garibaldi fell in beside his old friend. "You said Lennier's here already? That must have an interesting meeting?"

Sheridan smiled wryly. "It might have been, but that Vampire Slayer put her foot down."

"She's a pistol isn't she?"

"She knows how to make an impact." Sheridan snorted. "Still, her group are nothing if not effective, they'll be an asset in the coming days."

Garibaldi grinned at him. "You have a plan?"

"Mr. Garibaldi!" There was a twinkle in his old commander's eyes. "You know me, I always have a plan."

Garibaldi strode behind his former commander. Curiosity tugged impatiently at him, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing from experience that Sheridan would tell him the plan when he was good and ready, and not before. "G'Kar's here," Sheridan commented. "He's been a godsend rallying and firming up the support for action."

"If there's one thing G'Kar can do, it's talk people into doing what they don't want to do," Garibaldi replied.

"Ha," Sheridan chuckled. "Listening to G'Kar reminds me of those 20th century evangelical preachers sometimes, with the added benefit that he actually believes what he's saying." Sheridan said. "And he's not the only guest from the old days," 'Star-Killer' stopped and opened a door. "Please go in."

Garibaldi strode through the door, his eyes alighting on the familiar figure sat on the far chair. "Vi-," a grin spreading across his face, Garibaldi quickly corrected himself, "Ambassador Cotto!"

"Mr. Garibaldi," the diffident Centauri smiled weakly. "It's good to see you."

"And you, yeah." Garibaldi glanced at him. "Is Vir in your plan too?"

"He is," Sheridan looked from Garibaldi to Cotto. "He's integral to it. Draal's brought certain facts to my attention. Apparently when the Drakh evacuated Z'ha'dum, they covertly took over Centauri Prime and have been running things from behind the scenes ever since. Every atrocity by Centauri warships was orchestrated by them. And if we can free the Centauri, not only do we take a major asset from the enemy, but we gain one for ourselves." Sheridan continued talking, explaining his plan.

"Well," Vir fluttered his hands in that nervous way of his, "if it helps Londo and my people," the Centauri nodded. "I'm in."

All outward appearances would suggest that Vir was little more than a quaking sheep, but Garibaldi knew better. Inside Cotto's chest beat a lion's heart. "I'm in," Garibaldi nodded, he might be a suit now, but it'd be nice to get involved in the cut and thrust of covert operations again. Just like the old days. "And Ikarra VII?"

Sheridan raised an eyebrow. "You know about that?"

Garibaldi smiled slightly. "I like to keep my hand in the intelligence-gathering business."

Sheridan chuckled then sobered. "It's in hand."


	18. Chapter 18

**FIC ****Babylon**** Faith (18/?)**

"Hey, you're the caretaker of this Great Machine, right?"

Draal turned to find himself confronted by a tiny earth female that he guessed would be considered attractive by the males of her species, although that long, thick mane was somewhat offsetting. "Indeed I am," he replied after a second, unused to find himself addressed in such a casual manner.

Not that he was irritated by the young woman's words or tone. Far from it. After a lifetime either as an esteemed teacher or the warden of a great power, it was refreshing to find someone who cared little for his station.

"Wicked," the woman nodded even as she glanced around the tunnel. "Nice place you have here, not 'xactly homely, but wicked impressive. Name's Faith by the way."

Draal nodded. "Draal."

"Pleased to meet you." Faith nodded again before looking towards him, a speculative gleam entering her dark eyes. "So this Great Machine's supposed to be this great archive of knowledge 'bout the universe and its history, am I right?"

"Amongst other things," he agreed.

"Wicked." Faith licked her bottom lip before continuing. "In that case I was kinda wonderin' if you could maybe help me with somethin'…"

Draal listened to the earth woman's request and threw back his head and laughed. "What an interesting not to mention daring idea!" He beamed approvingly at the brunette. "I like you!"

"Even popular with alien guys, figures." The brunette shot him an expectant smirk. "So can you help?"

Draal's mood sobered. "You understand what you ask is extremely dangerous?"

The brunette's eyes narrowed. "From what I hear your machine can tell you a hell of a lot. Do a little research, you'll find me and danger aren't 'xactly strangers."

"My dear girl," Draal huffed, "I hardly need to do research to realise that!" Indeed the girl bristled with enough menace to send a roomful of warrior caste stampeding for the exit. "If you're certain?" he glanced towards the Great Machine.

The brunette fixed him with a piercing look. "I'm certain."

* * *

"'Kay," Faith pursed her lips as the Centauri shuttle sped out of The Great Machine and towards a jumpgate leading to the Centauri home system. "Let me get this right. The Drakh have been in charge of the Centauri for years, giving them time to really get their hooks into the world, its military and people. How in the hell are we supposed to overthrow them in one night?"

"Control of the Centauri people is located in a very few people, and at top of the pyramid is the Emperor," Vir replied in his usual diffidently shy tone. "Very few people have access to the upper echelons, especially the emperor, but as a close personal friend of Ambassador Mollari and the ambassador to Babylon 5, I'll be able to get a private audience with him to introduce my wife."

"Bride?" Faith grinned at the alien. "Who's the lucky lady-."

"Well duh, none of us are gonna look convincing in a wedding dress."

Faith's jaw dropped at Xander's snigger, the penny suddenly dropping. "Me? Seriously?"

"We have this dress," Vir nervously continued, passing over what amounted to a few translucent pink silk threads and a veil. "It's the traditional Minbari wedding dress, the pink representing the passion of the wedding night."

"I don't care if the universe is at stake!" Faith shook her head. "I'm not marrying an alien and I'm not shaving my fucking head!"

"Faith," Garibaldi just about managed to keep a straight face. "Your speed and strength will be needed in the throne room, you're the only one Ambassador Cotto can get in there whose fast enough and strong enough to take out any guards he might have. Your job is to clear any Drakh or Centauri out of Vir's path, while he injects the poison Draal has given us into Londo's neck, killing the Keeper."

"Well shit," Faith pouted. "I've done some weird things in the past. But marrying an alien?" Faith shook her head. "Jesus!"

"I beg your pardon," Vir sniffed. "But have you ever reached pleasure level six?"

"No," Faith smirked. "But I'd like to."

"Oh boy," Vir gulped.

Faith paused for a heartbeat. "But I ain't shaving my head for nothing."

Garibaldi groaned. "I love working with amateurs."

"And what'll you all be doin' while I'm playin' Princess Leia?" Faith wrinkled her nose as she peered at the silken outfit.

"Princess Leia?" Lennier queried.

"Work with me, Lennier," Faith replied, her eyes fixed on Garibaldi. "Well?"

"Vir has supplied me with a pair of Centauri guardsmen outfits," Garibaldi flushed. "Galen and I are gonna put on a couple of Centauri wigs and pose as your escort."

"Thank god for male pattern baldness and not having it," Xander muttered.

* * *

Londo cast a bored look up from his throne and to the courtier rushing into his inner sanctum. "Yes, yes!" He took a long gulp of his whiskey before continuing. "Why do you want to interfere my night of delightful," he belched then continued, "fun?"

"My apologies sir," the courtier dropped to one knee, bowed his head, and didn't look up, a level of subservience he'd had found pleasing at one time but now tasted like ashes in his mouth. "But Ambassador Cotto has arrived and has requested a meeting. He wishes to introduce his wife."

Panic grabbed a hold of Londo, twisting his stomach. He was only here in part because he'd wanted to protect those few he considered his friends like G'Kar and Vir. He opened his mouth, a brusque dismissal on his lips, then the Keeper spoke in his mind, its discordant tones ordering him to send for his protégé. "Ah Vir is here is he?" A voice screamed vain protests in his head as he spoke. "Excellent, excellent." He waved a disingenuous hand. "Send him in."

"Yes sir."

The door swung open and his friend waddled in, a diaphanous dressed woman of quite breath-taking beauty slinking by his side. "VIR!" he half-rose out of his seat. "She's quite the beauty, yes! But an Earth-woman? What have I taught you? They're for play, not for keeps, always marry a Centauri woman!"

"I'll ram that half-drunk bottle up his ass," the curvy brunette growled.

Londo's eyes narrowed. "What was that?"

* * *

Ivanova gasped as she peered out of the window to the charred, severed wreckage of what had been her home for several years. Emotion choked her as she forced her eyes away and looked towards the warships of over a dozen races orbiting Eplison III, reminding her of the time Babylon 5 broken away from Earth, and been defended not by Earth forces but their alien allies.

Such memories. She shook her head in an effort to force them away. She'd sworn to never return after Marcus' death, yet here she was, just over a year later, forced here by old loyalties and orders. Shaking herself, returned her attention to the bridge. "Comms, open a com-link to the surface."

"Yes sir!"

Ivanova smiled as the intercom crackled into life, revealing an old acquaintance. "I remember you!" Draal boomed.

"Hello Draal," Ivanova bowed, hands clasped behind her back, all military and correct. "Lt. Colonel Ivanova at your service-."

"Congratulations on your promotion!"

"Uh, thank you," Ivanova mumbled, thrown off balance by the uncommonly effusive Minbari. "I'm here as an appointed representative of EarthGov, their liaison in the current crisis-."

"Yes, yes," Draal impatiently interrupted. "Then you'll need to come down to the surface. What are you waiting for? Hmmm?"

Ivanova counted to ten. "Permission?"

"Consider it granted, I'll look forward to seeing you."

* * *

"President Sheridan."

Memories engulfed him as he looked up to see his former second-in-command enter his office and come to a halt at the opposite side of his desk. "Susan," he smiled. "Congratulations on the promotion."

"Thank you sir," Susan nodded, heels clicking together.

"At ease," he smiled. "I'm not exactly military any more."

"No sir," Susan nodded. "But it's still a military situation, I think we need a clear chain in command."

Sheridan nodded. "Yes, perhaps you're right." He half-wondered if Susan was still holding a grudge over Marcus, but he continued. "Lyta and G'Kar are here and you just missed Lennier, Michael, and Vir."

"And who still on board when Babylon 5 went up?" Susan queried.

"Corwin, Allan, Welch, and Dr. Hobbs," Sheridan paused, struggling to get his air and anger and grief threatened to over-whelm him. "And my first wife, Captain Elizabeth Lochley."

"Your first wife?" Susan's eyes widened in disbelief. "How many are there? Did the cautionary tales of Elizabeth Taylor and Joan Collins mean nothing to you?"

"Hmm." Sheridan decided to take the high road. "You're to be the liaison between us and the Earth task force, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"It's come to our attention that the enemy has incubated its eggs on Ikarra VII," Sheridan said. "I want you to take your three Omega-Class destroyers and the fifteen Sharlins and three dozen White Stars we have here and aid the Earthforce task force in destroying the eggs so no more of these monsters can be born."

"Sir, that's genocide!"

"Yes," Sheridan nodded, a sick taste in his mouth. "I know. But from all we know these monsters have one purpose and that's to destroy, to kill, they can't be reasoned with. It took all the Old Ones to imprison them, and they're not here anymore. We can't afford to let them get a foothold."

"Yes sir." Sheridan saw Susan's face re-arrange itself in an all-too familiar frosty expression. "If that's all, I'll return to my ship and ready myself to take off."

Sheridan's mouth opened and closed, the years apart and shared experiences causing a hurtful distance. "Yes," he nodded then added, "it was good to see you again, Susan."

Susan paused at the door. "And you, sir."

* * *

Faith watched as the regent lurched drunkenly towards them. "Vir," the emperor shook his head and pointed at them. "I told you not to come back, I gave you express orders." The emperor shook his head again. "Now I can't help you, I'm so sorry for what's going to happen next."

Vir stepped towards the emperor, a well-manufactured look of bemusement on his face. "Londo! Emperor! I don't understand!" Vir threw his hands out in supplication. "Please, sir!"

The moment Vir lurched forward, the syringe appearing in his hand, Faith spoke into her mouthpiece. "Operation is a go!"

* * *

Sweat dripped down Vir as he moved towards his closest friend, every step seeming to take a mile. This had to work, for his best friend, for all his people. The weight of his planet weighed down on his shoulders, threatening to break him in two. But he wouldn't break, not yet.

He heard his words, but they seemed to be coming from another voice shouting from miles away. He twisted his right hand out, releasing the gas-powered holster in his sleeve, the syringe springing into his hand.

He darted forward, throwing a clumsy left hook that wouldn't have befuddled a sober Londo but confused his drunken friend long enough for him to jam his needle into the side of his neck. His friend gasped, back arching as his legs folded under him, his hands grabbing a hold of Vir's shoulders, pulling him down on top of him.

* * *

Galen and Garibaldi sprang forward the second Faith's terse message came through on their earpieces, Galen taking the guardsman stood by the far side of the door with a force-beam that crashed into the man's jaw, shattering bone, and crumpling him in to the ground.

For his part Garibaldi had it a little harder, the guard discarding drawing his PPG when he realised he couldn't get it out in time in favour of throwing a straight right that Garibaldi slid inside before driving a right hook into the alien's gut. The alien grunted before lunging forward, hands flashing up for his throat. Garibaldi feinted a retreat then lunged forward, swinging his arm up to knock the alien's arms up then crash his head into his rival's face.

The lighter man stumbled backwards, eyes glazing as Garibaldi looped an arm around his neck and cinched it in, pressing his weight down, forcing the man into unconsciousness.

"Nicely done," Galen's clipped tones commented. "Now let us hope our companions have done their part or all this is for naught."

"One way to find out," Garibaldi kicked the throne room doors open.

* * *

Faith sprang forward the moment a shape shifted behind the curtain, hand swinging down to grab the Drakh's upswinging gunarm at the wrist while simultaneously swinging her other fist up in an uppercut to the alien's jaw. The alien's head snapped back, crashing against the wall behind, but he still managed to dig a hook into Faith's ribs.

Faith grunted, pain whistling through her side as she drove her knee up and into Drakh's arm, knocking its gun to the ground. Another punch thudded into her ribs, but Faith ignored it to drive her head into the alien's face.

The alien's free arm swung back, but Faith grabbed it at the elbow, stilling its attack while repeatedly driving her head into its face, shattering bone and splitting its skin open until her face was drenched in blood, none of it her own. The moment the alien's legs began to buckle, Faith released her grips on its arms, grabbed a hold of its head and twisted hard, first one way until his neck cracked and then the other until it cracked again. Faith let go of the now limp alien, allowing it to slump onto the polished floor.

"Great Maker, Vir! Only you could pick up an Earth woman capable of out-fighting a Drakh! But really, an alien, a most comely one true, but must you always fall under my expectations!"


	19. Chapter 19

**FIC ****Babylon**** Faith (19/?)**

Vir swallowed as Faith started forward, danger flashing in the curvy beauty's limpid eyes. Vir hurriedly took his life into his own hands and stepped between the fists-clenched Slayer and his mentor.

"What, what," Londo blinked and swayed from side to side, a ragged expression on his face. "I'm free! By the Great Maker! Free!" Londo's exultation evaporated as rapidly it appeared, the older Centauri slumping drunkenly back into his throne. "Oh Great Maker, the things I've done." Vir shuddered as Londo's gaze narrowed and zeroed in on him. "The things I've done for you, Vir to keep you safe! Then you stumble in here without a care in the universe!"

"Hey!" Faith let out a sudden growl. "In case you haven't been payin' attention, Vir just help save you and your shrivelled sack!"

Londo's gaze snapped over to Faith. "Have a care, girl!" Vir slapped his head and moaned, this wasn't going to end well. "I might owe you a certain debt, and I'm not ungrateful, but I'm the Emperor of the Centauri Empire, and I will not be spoken of in that matter!"

"Oh yeah?" Vir moaned deep in his throat at the Slayer's flinty smile. "Word to the wise asshat. I've taken on creatures way more powerful and way scarier than you, dude, and come out lookin' as bodacious as ever."

Londo's mouth opened, but whatever he was going to say was thankfully interrupted by the throne room doors crashing open. "Mr. Garibaldi!" Londo boomed. "And who is your companion?"

Galen half-bowed. "Galen, of the order of Techno-Mages."

"Ahhh, Great Maker," Londo shuddered. "Techno-Mages. And my day continues to 'suck' as you humans say."

"HEY!" Faith pointed a silk-covered arm at Londo. "That Techno-Mage just helped save your ass, jackass!"

"Young lad-."

"Oh god," Faith's nose wrinkled as she blithely ignored the fuming emperor and glanced down at the almost diaphanous skimpy pink outfit she was wearing, "I haven't changed, yet!" Faith looked towards Garibaldi. "You got my bag, G."

"Sure," Babylon 5's former security chief passed over a green canvas bag.

"Thanks," Faith looked into the bag, "my denims, you're a lifesaver."

"I must say you look splendid," Londo said. "Well apart from the obvious lack of muzzle and your hirsuteness."

"Ain't got fleas in MY hair." Faith nodded as she took a look around the throne room. "Where can I go to change?"

"You could change here, I promise not to peek, much." Garibaldi commented.

"I make no such promises," Londo added.

"Yeah, you'd have talk that over with Xander, and he really gets protective, not to mention possessive," Faith strutted behind the curtains, her hips swinging with what seemed to Vir to be deliberately provocative sauciness, "and I don't see that endin' well for anyone."

* * *

Londo shot a long, lingering look after the infuriating beauty's quite delectable behind, her translucent outfit moulded to her pert cheeks, as she disappeared behind a curtain. One thing he and G'Kar both shared was a taste for the finer things in life. And that annoying creature was quite definitely one of the finest. Not since Adira Tyree had a woman stirred him so.

"To business." He muttered as he tore his eyes away and looked towards Garibaldi. "Not that I'm not grateful for your help, but just why are you here?"

Garibaldi threw him a data crystal, Londo watched in silence as Sheridan made a speech imploring for Centauri to be allowed back into the Interstellar Alliance. He watched in silent anger as former allies refused to entertain Sheridan's arguments then observed with a secret smile as G'Kar turned them around with a speech of his own. Sheridan had a certain home-spun sincerity that made him an effective speaker, but G'Kar had a fire and charisma that put him in a whole different league. "So that's why we're here," Garibaldi finished as the data crystal came to an end. "We need every hand on deck right now."

"And we should help you?" Londo snorted. "And what have the other powers ever done for the Centauri-."

"Let's stop you right now," Garibaldi interrupted. "I'm not a diplomat. I suppose the Cap-, the President could have sent one to sweet-talk you, but they tend to wet themselves when it comes to the violence, so I'm all you've got. I'll break it down for you. You should help because we're friends and that's what friends do for one another. And if you don't help us, there will be tomorrow. Not for Earth. Not for the Minbari. Not for the Narn. And not for the Centauri. Everybody dies."

Londo forced a chuckle. "I sure you overstate things."

"Afraid not," Garibaldi threw him another data crystal.

"What is this…" Londo's bluster trailed off as he watched in horror as he watched footage of a destroyed Babylon 5, the cracked planet of Staat, and the scorched, twisted wreckage floating in the space above a planet he recognised as Shir-shraba, a former ally of theirs in better days. Londo looked towards his guests as Faith strode out from behind the curtains clad in tight but disappointingly less revealing black jeans and blouse. "These atrocities have the same culprit?"

"We believe so." Garibaldi nodded. "And they've also impregnated a dead planet with their next generation and tried and failed to destroy Epsilon III."

"And these creatures?" Londo's blood chilled and both his hearts skipped at the hologram of a multi-headed, leathery-winged nightmare. "By the Great Maker," he muttered. Shaking his head, he looked towards Garibaldi. "These are our enemy?"

Garibaldi smirked at his unconscious use of 'our', then sobered and nodded. "And they're backed by the last of the Dilgar, the Streibs, a race known as the Tak'cha, and the Drakh."

"Huh," Londo glanced down at the Drakh corpse, a troubling thought occurring. Suddenly this alliance had moved from expedient to personal. His eyes returned to Garibaldi. "And this alliance we're supposed to join?"

"Includes all the major powers – Earth, Narn, Minbar, and all the signees of the Interstellar Alliance," Garibaldi replied.

"And I intend to urge my people to also join," Galen replied.

"Well it's not a party without the Centauri, we make a party-." Londo ignored the curvy brunette's snort to get to a point that had been worrying him since his rescue from Keeper-slavedom. "But if I resisted, the Drakh said they would explode bombs they have at twenty-five locations throughout Centauri, all our major cities would be flattened," Londo said. "We have to stop them!"

"I was not unaware of the bombs," Galen smoothly replied. "My ship is emitting a planet-wide beacon that will block the frequency needed to remote-control detonate the bombs."

"Yes," Londo stared uneasily at the Techno-Mage, "what fascinating technology you have." Londo collected himself before continuing. "The Drakh will be unaware of you killing their Keeper, so we have the advantage of surprise. I need you to contact Lord-General Marrago in his villa. I forced him into retirement to protect him from being taken over by the Drakh, but he's still my people's finest general."

"I could pretend to be a court envoy, bringing a message from you," Vir suggested. "Galen and Mr. Garibaldi could be my escort."

"An excellent idea," Londo beamed then looked towards Faith. "And while you're gone, this delectable creature and I will get to know one another."

"Never. Going. To. Happen."

"Ah, but never is such a long time, dear," Londo.

"Jeez," the beautiful brunette shook her head and smirked. "What is it with me and horny aliens? First G'Kar, now youse."

"Ahhh," Londo beamed at the mention of his old rival\friend. He had to get this delightful creature's comm number before G'Kar. This was no matter merely a matter of lust, Centauri honour also demanded it!

"Emperor Mollari," Garibaldi's impatient tones dragged his attention away from the intriguing human. "Your orders for the Lord-General?"

"Ah yes," Londo shook his head. Affairs of state be buggered and damned for interfering in his fun. "What I need-."

* * *

"I know the secret ways to the Lord-General's villa," Vir babbled as they hurried out of the palace throne room. "It will get us there in a fifth of the time of the surface roads and without anyone noticing us." Vir paused as he entered a shadowy alcove and began scurrying around with the elaborately decorated wall tiles, organising them into a pattern that opened a space in the wall, musky dust spilling out. "Do you think Londo will be safe with Faith?"

"Safe with Faith?" Garibaldi let out an amused snort. "Given his reputation, I think Faith's the one who needs worry."

"She is the reigning Mutai champion," Galen pointed out, a hint of a smirk in his voice.

"True," Garibaldi conceded, "but he's Londo."

"I hardly think this a matter for ribaldry," Vir sniffed as he ducked into the darkened tunnel, the only illumination their torch lights. "I just meant if she could protect him alone." Vir paused and let out a nervous giggle. "Besides she's my intended."

"Oh brother," Garibaldi chuckled. "Londo's rubbing off on you, and not in a good way."

* * *

"Our men raided the twenty-five locations you gave us." Lord-General Marrago could hardly believe that he was he was back in the throne room, restored to his old position. Back in a throne room filled with earth aliens, after all they'd done to his people. He was far from sure of how he felt about any of this.

"And their results?" Londo demanded with the impatience he was used to.

At least Mollari wasn't spectacularly psychotic like his predecessor on the throne. There were always mercies large and small to be found if you looked for them. "All raids successfully secured the explosive devices. However at a number of locations, some of the Drakh escaped capture."

"WHAT!" Londo let out a choleric roar then visibly calmed himself. "And what efforts are being made to run down these slippery individuals?"

It was Guardsman Elite Tavastani who replied. "Sweeping patrols through the cities, constricting cordons around the cities, and an orbital barricade blocking any ship from leaving the atmosphere unless it has a) the right verification codes and b) have first been searched by the port security."

"Sounds like a lot of manpower," the human Vir had introduced as 'Mr. Garibaldi'. "What are you gonna have left to spare for our task force?"

"Mr. Garibaldi!" Londo roared. "Protecting the Centauri people has to be the responsibility of its leader. That said," Emperor Mollari turned to the room's fifth and final Centauri, "Admiral Dromo?"

"We'll have thirty Primus class battlecruisers each with a full complement of Sentri fighters and eighty Vorchan class medium warships ready to go tomorrow morning," Dromo replied before looking towards Faith. "I also have the shuttle you requested. However I am puzzled as to where you intend to go without a crew?"

"I'm their crew," responded the group's second female, an alien by the name of Dureena Nafeel.

"I'm going to stay here for a while," Garibaldi suddenly spoke up. "Help with the stabilisation efforts and liaise between Centauri and the other powers. Galen and Lennier are going to the Techno-Mages to try to persuade them to help us. While Faith and her group," Garibaldi shot the brunette beauty a puzzled look, "and her group go wherever they intend to go."

Faith winked. "A girl's gotta have her secrets. Helps keep the mystery alive."

Garibaldi shook his head before looking towards the Emperor. "Emperor Mollari, who do you intend to send as your liaison to the joint task-force?"

Marrago's one interest was wildlife. Not just that of his own planet, but of the galaxy in general, and to his experienced eyes, Mollari's smile looked akin to an Earth's creature called a shark. "I can think of one Centauri above all others who has a knack for relating to other species, my good and loyal friend, Vir Cotto!"

Vir's face fell. "I get all the good jobs." Vir coughed at Mollari's one-eyebrow raised glare. "I mean, thank you for the honour, Emperor Mollari."

* * *

Gideon stared out of his ship's window, the swirls and tides of hyperspace having always had an almost hypnotic effect on him. "Colonel Gideon."

Gideon turned his attention back to the video screen before him and nodded at the severe-faced but beautiful woman pictured there. "Lt. Colonel Ivanova."

"Congratulations on your recent promotion," the Russian-born woman continued. "It's time to start earning those stripes. You know the plan?"

"Yes," Gideon nodded. It was daring and innovative, typical of the Sheridan school of strategising. "All three wings of Earthforce's Legend-Class battleships will drop out of hyperspace just below the patrolling dragons and just in orbit. We'll immediately drop our payload on the planet surface, destroying the eggs. Then when the dragons start their descent to attack us, you'll come in on top of them, we'll come up from the bottom, and we'll catch them between us."

"Excellent." Lt. Colonel Ivanova nodded brusquely. "Set your timer and send your signals. We go in five."


	20. Chapter 20

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (20/?)**

Ikarra VII

Colonel Gideon glanced around the King Arthur's hushed bridge. "Re-entering atmosphere now!"

Lightning streamed and flashed around their fleet as they exited hyperspace squarely in a planet's atomsphere, Gideon's fingers firmly crossed that the metallurgists had done their work, and their ships wouldn't be ripped apart by the forces battering them. Gideon gritted his teeth, sweat beading his brow as the ship shuddered and thrashed in the centre of the middle of its inter-galactic typhoon, winds lashing at its creaking hull. But then the ship righted and steadied, still unbelievably in one piece.

Gideon forced himself to focus on the mission and not lose himself in the glee flooding over him, they had to get the first part of the operation over with before the dragons were on them. "Round Table wing release payload!" he rasped into his intercom. He watched on his screen as each of his nine ships dropped the five sphere-shaped, midnight-black neutron bombs they carried, sending them hurtling towards the planet's east side. "Olympian wing release payload!" A half-second later, forty-five more neutron bombs were plummeting towards the planet's west side. "Aesir wing release payload!" The final wing sent its payload flying towards the planet's north side. "Ships, climb out of the atmosphere in triangle wing formation!"

The ash-grey planet turned bright red as it cracked and shuddered, concussive waves erupting from it, ash-clouds chasing their ships as they fled orbit and raced up to meet the descending, wrathful dragons. Eyes fixed on the winged beasts, Gideon spoke into the fleet-wide intercom. "All available power to aft pulse canons!"

* * *

Minbar

Delenn's footsteps clicked angrily as she strode through the corridor, Anla'shok escort trailing a respectful two steps behind. The two watching Minbari stiffened at their approach, stepping forward to block her way through the doorway they guarded. "You are not of the Grey," one of them announced. "Not any more."

Delenn met the Warrior Caste Minbari stare for stare. "I am Anla'Shok Na, I have the right," she declared.

"You are not of the Grey," he repeated. "Not any more."

Delenn nodded thoughtfully. "Anla'Shok, remove this obstacle."

In seconds both warrior caste were lying crumpled on the floor. "Thank you." Delenn took a breath and stepped through into the darkened room beyond, the only exception the silvery ring illuminating the nine grey cowled figures in the room's centre. "Is this what the Minbari have become?" she trilled as she strode in. "Old women to hide behind the efforts of younger races!"

"Have a care, Delenn!" One of the Warrior Caste representatives warned. "We are the chosen of Valen!"

"To be chosen of a warrior and a statesman like Valen is a honour," she agreed with a curt nod. "But to be the dupes of a race of liars like the Vorlons, far less so. Only we know the truth, but it is a truth that you seem not to have learnt from!" Delenn paused, took a moment to compose herself, then continued. "Why are our warriors here, and not with the fleet?"

There were mutters of agreement, but the second of the warrior caste representatives stepped forward with a snarl. "Have a care, Delenn."

"No," she shook her head. "You have a care. Have the warrior caste not learnt from the examples of Duhkat, Brammer, and Neroon? Do they instead stick so closely to the example of Shakiri?" Delenn paused. "And even if your strategy was not so craven, not so self-interested, it is a strategy doomed to failure. I look upon the path you have chosen and are ashamed. Only if we stand together, united with our allies can we have the slightest hope to victory."

"Your closeness to Starkiller blinds you," one of the warrior caste replied.

"NO!" Delenn shook her head. "It is your presumptive arrogance and belief in the superiority of Minbari above all others that BLINDS you!"

"Very well Delenn," the leader of the Worker Caste representatives stepped forward. "It will be as you say, all the Sharlins remaining here will leave to join Starkiller's fleet within the hour."

Delenn nodded curtly and turned to leave. "You had better hope you are right, Delenn."

Delenn turned back to face the Warrior Caste leader. "Survive or die, this is the right course of action," she declared. "Cowering while friends and allies die can never be right."

* * *

Ikarra VII

Colonel Ivanova nodded dispassionately as the planet's surface cracked like a rotten egg. The important part of their mission was now over, now she had to concentrate on getting as many of their people out of the firefight as possible. Ivanova watched on the monitor as Gideon's battle group started their deep ascent out of the planet's orbit, fighting gravity and atmospherics with every mile gained, and watched as the demons guarding the disintegrating planet began to drop to meet them. Ivanova spoke into her intercom. "We go now. And come in hot."

* * *

Somewhere In Hyperspace

Lennier stared with wonder out of the Pinnace window, and into Hyperspace. "I must admit to a certain excitement at getting to meet your people."

"That makes one of us I suppose," Galen replied, the techno-mage's eyes fixed on the controls before him.

Lennier glanced at his companion. "Are you not well thought of by your people?"

Galen smiled wryly. "I have a certain insubordinate reputation."

Lennier eyed his companion. "I find that unsurprising."

"Ha." Galen looked at him. "Perhaps it's all these alien influences I surround myself with."

Lennier nodded slightly. "If it is my fault then I will endeavour to protect you to the best of my abilities."

"I'll be the first Techno-Mage with his own Minbari bodyguard," Galen chuckled.

"But not the last when they realise how invaluable I am," Lennier confidently stated.

Galen chuckled, then stiffened. "Something wrong."

"No," Galen shook his head. "Just my ship receiving the beacon from the Techno-Mages. Only our ships are equipped to pick up the signal." Galen tapped away at his keyboard then sunk back in his seat. "I've given up remote control to the beacon, they'll guide us in from there."

* * *

Ikarra VII

"FIRE!" Gideon held onto his desk console as their ship was bathed in fire from the dragons, his own ship firing round after round into the hulking beast. Smoking craters burst open on the dragon's chest even as it gusted yet more flames on them, their ship creaking under its frenzied attack. "FIRE!"

Energy arcs flew from their ship and pulsed into the monster, ripping deep into it. "Damn it!" Gideon ducked as a panel fell from the ceiling to explode onto his console, sparks erupting from the collision. "Cut all power to non-essential systems and direct them to the guns!" Lights dimmed to darkness. "FIRE!"

Energy pulsed from their canons, finally ripping the monster in two. Gideon grinned as his desk sensors beeped a warning about near-by opening hyperspace jumps. "Well ma'am," he drawled under his breath. "It looks like theUS. cavalry have arrived."

* * *

"You want to do what?"

Faith raised an eyebrow at Dureena's screech. "I didn't think you were hard of hearin', hon. I said I want you to take us to these co-ordinates so I can meet with the Soul Hunters."

"You've no idea-".

"I read a ton of stuff about the Soul Hunters, I probably know more 'bout them than you do," Faith leaned forward in her seat, dark eyes intent on the alien. "And you know what I know 'bout them? They're old, older than the Minbari, maybe even older than the Drakh, and powerful too. The sorta power we need to take these assholes down."

"And what do you intend to offer these demons for their assistance?" Dureena demanded.

"Let me worry about that." Faith grimaced. "You don't have to meet them, leave that to me."

As Dureena turned away from her, Xander leaned over her shoulder and whispered. "I hope you know what you're doing?"

Faith forced a smile as she looked up into Xander's concerned eye. "Why change the habit of a lifetime?"

* * *

Ikarra VII

Energy arced out of their ships as they exited the hyperspace jumps, shredding into the dragons' rears. Some tried to turn, to fly up to face them, but those who did, were torn apart by the incessant fire of the Earth ships below them. Some tried to ignore their attacks and dive for the Earth ships, but the result was the same, deadly fire ripping through them from both directions.

Of course a battle against such a terrible enemy, no matter how well-executed, could be wholly one-sided. Ivanova grimaced as she saw an out of control Sharlin leaking fuel lurch drunkenly into two other Sharlins before finally exploding into a blazing inferno. Ivanova grabbed her desk and struggled to stop from falling when their ship tilted suddenly, the blast from a charging dragon scorching metal and heating the ship's interior.

Ivanova stared fearlessly ahead. The Shadows,Clark, the Old Ones, she'd faced them all and never taken a back step. She wasn't about to start now. Ivanova pointed ahead and let out defiant yell. "Power to forward guns, blow that overgrown lizard out of MY sky!"

The ship's guns, a very extension of her captain's will, fired instantly, bathing the rising dragon in fire. The beast seemed to contort in pain, but continued rising, its varying head bobbing back and forth as they fired yet more fire. "FIRE AGAIN!" Ivanova screamed, her body suddenly soaked in sweat. The ship shuddered as its guns blasted, power arcing out to impact on the dragon, the gunners catching the beast on its under-belly, blood and gore spilling from its torn midsection. "TAKE OFF ITS HEADS!"

The next blast ripped through the beast's necks, severing three of its heads off the thick stems, the beast briefly thrashing then floating lifelessly off into space.

Ivanova allowed herself a long, relieved breath. Then stumbled and almost fell as their ship shuddered under another attack, the entire ship seeming to creak. Ivanova glanced at the screen before grimacing as she saw a smouldering, injured dragon climbing fast and breathing fire onto their ship's underside, ironically repeating their own tactic just seconds earlier. "Swing to face the attacker!"

The ship began the slow but inexorable manoeuvre to obey its commander, the far more agile dragon bathing it in fire throughout. Ivanova winced as she felt the ship grow hotter, its exterior scorching as its metal bubbled. "Sir!" her helmsmen let out a nervous but controlled cry. "The ship's walls are failing!"

"Hold your nerve!" Ivanova nodded smugly as the ship finally finished their turn. "FIRE PRIMARY WEAPON!"

The white star shuddered as its neutron cannon pulsed white light at their winged adversary. The flying reptile's heads flew back in an apparent scream as the scales on its underbelly were blazed away, the flesh underneath bubbling, as the laser tore through it. The white star shuddered as another dragon landed on top of them, grasping it between its huge claws like an eagle snatching up a dormouse.

Ivanova's gaze snapped up to the ceiling as it began to creak. "Helms! Shake this ship from side to side. Weapons! Direct fire up into that bitch's underbelly! I want loose!"

Ivanova grabbed the console before her as the ship began rocking from side to side. Energy arced from their ship's twin fusion canons to slam into their attacker's belly, flesh burning under their onslaught. She smirked as the dragon recoiled, releasing its grip. "Don't let the bastard go!" she ordered. "I want it blown out of my sky!"

Fire bathed their ship as the winged monster countered their attack with one of its own, teethy maws opening wide as flames burst forth. Suddenly the ship's lights dimmed as ship systems burnt out.

And then blue energy illuminated the dark sky as the EAS Odin raced to their action, their cannons slicing through the creature's side, the monster twisting in a vain attempt to meet their new rival, then tearing apart.

Ivanova glanced around, nodding as she noted how well the battle was going, then spoke into her intercom. "Ivanova to all ships. Primary objective has been achieved, withdraw through hyperspace in five minutes."


	21. Chapter 21

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (21/?)**

All around thebridgeofWhite Star Primewas hustle and bustle, not the frenzied activity of a human ship just prior to battle, but a very ordered chaos that was unique to the Minbari. And through it all,Sheridanstood, hands clasped behind his back as he waited with apparent calm for reports of troop movements, on-going operations, and reinforcements to come in, Draal having lent them the power of The Great Machine to ensure communications reached far further and far faster than otherwise would be possible.

Sheridanstood to attention as Ivanova's stern visage flickered onto his comm screen. "Colonel? I trust you have good news for me?"

"The operation was completed with minimal losses Mr. President," the stone-faced Russian replied. Sheridanconcealed a wince at the phrase 'minimal losses', he somehow suspected that the losses wouldn't remain 'minimal' for much longer. "The remainder of our forces and our allies are advancing to the agreed marshalling co-ordinates with all possible speed. I've sent you a more detailed and encrypted video report ahead of us."

"Excellent,"Sheridannodded.

Ivanova hesitated. "John, how is the recruitment going?"

Sheridanlooked away from the comms screen and towards the fleet massing around them, as always awe filling him. "About as you'd expect," he candidly admitted. "The Minbari, Earthforce, Centauri, and Narn have all done more or less as I'd expect. The major voices in the old League and first signatories to the Interstellar Alliance like the Drazi, Brakiri, and Gaim have all sent forces, and other forces are trickling in."

"Are we going to have as many ships as we did in the Shadow War?"

Sheridanforced his gaze back towards the comms screen. "Maybe more."

"Good," Ivanova nodded. "Because given what I've seen of these dragons, we'll need them."

"That's inspiring," Sheridandryly replied. "I'll see you soon."

* * *

"Might as well get this over with." Galen's mutter rang around the darkened craft as it settled on the planet's surface. They were here, and he still didn't have a clue what to say. Galen rose sinuously and stalked to the opening walkway, Lennier following silently behind.

"Galen," Dairo was stood at the bottom of the walkway, "I had hoped it would be rather longer before we saw you again."

"Such a warm welcome," Galen leant on his staff.

"And I see you've bought an outsider with me," Dario looked past him to an impassive-looking Lennier. "You know our rules."

"Rules are made to be broken," Galen stepped off the walkway and around the scowling Techno-Mage. "Especially on days such as these."

"You cannot simply bring outsiders here!" Dario raged.

"You have a lot more to worry about than just a solitary outsider," Galen replied before falling silent, memories flooding back as he looked around the encampment, saw familiar faces peering out, looking at him in awe, the prodigal son returned. Soon people were crowding around him, including his order's leaders. And suddenly the words he struggled to find where on his lips. "When we ran from the Shadows, we ran out of fear, but also out of shame because of their part in our origin. But mostly we ran so not to be weapons in other race's war. But this new enemy doesn't leave us the option of hiding. These creatures don't seek to conquer, they just seek to destroy, to kill every single living creature, regardless of species, religion, affiliation, anything. Hiding won't be enough to save us this time. And even if it was, what would be saving, a mob of quivering cowards with the power to help but lacking the heart to do so? Will we be worth saving?"

* * *

"Holy Crap."

The co-ordinates the Great Machine had given them led them through several hyperspace jumps to a part of space where no stars shone, the only gleaming coming from the orange pulsing of round, turreted ships the size of small towns that hung in space with a combination of quiet dignity and awe-inspiring menace. The ships were beyond huge, encircled with three hundred and sixty feet glowing orange cylinders, and at their centre and peak there were silvery spires with black glass that glittered.

"This is a very bad idea," Dureena muttered.

"Oh shut up," Faith replied. "I'm baskin', first non Soul-Hunters in centuries to be here."

"Alive anyway."

Faith shot Xander a look. "Don't you start."

Dureena swallowed. "Message coming through in comms."

The screen fluttered into life, revealing a walnut-skinned dude with cold yet intelligent eyes and a third unseeing eye sat in the middle of his forehead. The other noticeable thing was a several inch long of leather-like flap running around the back of their head, covering up their apparent lack of ears. "Outsiders are not welcome."

Faith swallowed. The alien's tone was utterly emotionless, and yet carried with it more danger than Angelus at his most swash-buckling. 'Sides any one of their monster ships could swat their ship out of existence with 'bout as much effort it took her to swat a fly. But shit, Faith's shoulders squared, she didn't do frightened. Forcing a smile, she leaned forward. "We were just in the neighbourhood and we were figurin' you'd like to join a party we're holdin'."

"We have no interest in the happenings of lesser races, no interest beyond the collection of worthy souls."

"Yeah?" Faith's eyes narrowed, her temper as always getting the better of what little good sense she had. "Well you better get interested, because if you don't, there ain't gonna be any souls left for you to collect."

"Of what do you speak?" The Soul Hunter stared unblinkingly ahead.

Faith nodded to Dureena, then looked back towards the Soul Hunter. "We're sending the files over to ya, right now."

The Soul Hunter pursed his lips, his face otherwise expressionless as he peered down at the records. He looked over his shoulder and then back at the screen again. "We're sending an unmanned shuttle over to you, it will fly back to us on a pre-programmed flight plan."

"That's mighty hospitable of you," Faith replied as the screen blinked off. "Not to mention downright welcoming."

"You're just going to go?" Dureena queried.

"It would be impolite not to." Faith shrugged.

"And if there's one thing Faith always worries about it's her manners," Xander jibed.

Faith ignored that to look towards Dureena. "Give us an hour."

"And what if you don't come back?"

Faith shot the alien a shit-eating grin. "Then you'll know you were right!"

"Oh," Xander moaned, "that's comforting."

* * *

The shuttle flew them into a silent bay filled with maybe twenty of the shuttles spaced out through its vastness, unblinking yellow lights illuminating its grey walls. Faith peered out of the shuttle the moment the door slid down into a runway. "No welcoming committee?" Faith shook her head then looked at her best friend. "I blame you," she warned. "I never used to have problems with my popularity 'fore I started hangin' with you."

"Yeah," Xander let out a long-suffering sigh, "it's always my fault."

"What I'm talkin' 'bout," Faith agreed as she started down the runway, her fluttering heart masked by a nonchalant expression. "Come on." The docking bay led to an eerie silent corridor, the ship's shadowy passageways seemingly deserted of crew or passengers. "Where is everyone?"

Xander shrugged. "Let's just follow the corridor, see where it leads."

"That's just inspirational is what it is," Faith murmured before falling in beside her Watcher, reluctantly admitting just how much she relied on and was comforted by her best friend's presence, especially in this strange new world. It was different from what she'd grown up believing, that the only person she could rely on was herself, somethin' that took a hell of a lot of gettin' used to, but was sorta good too.

Faith halted as the corridor came to an end in a vast eight foot high and wide door with glowing glyphs engraved into the previously bleakly bare walls on either side. Faith swallowed before glancing at Xander. "You ready for this?"

Xander sighed and nodded. "Come on then you idiot."

"Encouragin'," Faith snarked before stepped towards the entrance, the doors sliding left and right without even the slightest accompanying hiss. Faith blinked as they stepped into an oval-shaped darkened auditorium, a ceiling spotlight illuminating their passageway. Faith looked left and right, noting the stacked bleachers despite the inky darkness.

And then the voices started, the entire audience speaking as one emotionless, simultaneous judge. "Joker Villain. Murderer. Saviour. Possessed. Redeemed. Hero. Whore. Mother."

"Mother," Faith muttered under her breath, "now that's just unnerving."

Another orange light came on the moment they reached the apparent middle of the coliseum, illuminating a Soul Hunter who appeared hunched over with age, his gnarled hand clinging to the shoulder-high rod by his side. "Long has it been since aliens have visited one of our Cathedral ships-."

"At least alive," Faith clamped her mouth shut at the alien's piercing stare and Xander's cautionary elbow in the ribs.

"I was young then, still a prowler of the universe," the aged Soul-Hunter continued. "Not the Absolute Prime of my people as I am now. Your race were still scrabbling their way out of the dirt to create their first civilisation when the last alien visited here, and now you are here with tales of a race from before the first of us was born. Why would we, who have always stayed separate, wish to join you in this war?"

"'Cause, you collect souls and if you wanna have any souls left to collect there's gotta be civilisations outta there for you to do your reaping." Faith paused. "I'm guessin' if Earth isn't that much different from back in my day, most people won't believe shit 'bout souls existing. But I know different, seen the difference havin' a soul can make to a person. So here's the offer," Faith took a breath. "I'm figurin' to get a good few years outta my soul 'fore I croak, but when I go I ain't gonna have any future use for it. So, you gotta have a way of tracking 'interesting souls', souls that have done the good and bad things I've done, so if you give us trackers, we'll agree to keep them on me 'til we die, so you can swoop in and take our souls," Faith glanced at Xander who nodded his agreement, "without any fight for your collection."

"For such a primitive race your people have come up with many souls fit for reaping," the Absolute Prime intoned. "Cyrus the Great, Homer, Alexander of Macedon, Julius Caesar, Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, Marco Polo, George Washington, Leonardo Da Vinci, Isaac Newton, Charles Dickens, and others." Faith felt herself deflate at the litany of famous names. "Explorers, leaders, generals, and dreamers who have shaped your world. But never ones who have saved it." The Absolute Prime reached into his robe, pulled out, and threw a pair of discs to her feet. "Take those with you, we'll know where you are and when your souls need to be harvested."

Faith crouched and scooped up both of the smooth-surfaced discs, her eyes remaining fixed on the Absolute Prime. "We have a deal?"

The Prime nodded. ""We will be there."

* * *

President Sheridan forced his gaze to remain steady as the third Ranger captain joined his compatriots on screen, conscious both of the heavy weight resting on his chest and the assembled ambassadors stood behind him. It was for them most of all this sacrifice was being made, to drum into them the dire importance of the forthcoming battle. "Thank you for joining us Captains," he cleared his throat. "As all of you are aware, our forces are now massing for an attack on the enemy. I have sent you the information of where we are readying yourself, and a route I want you to take to return to us."

"Sir," the youngest of the three Captains and the only human interrupted, "begging your pardon Mr. President, but this path sends us deep into the enemy territory. With this information wouldn't it be a risk that the enemy might get their hands on us and discover the information?"

Oh dear, he'd have to spell it out. Sheridan cleared his throat again. "I know, that's what I want."

"Oh," the human's face fell momentarily but he quickly regained his poise and nodded, bleak understanding dawning in his eyes. "In Valen's Name."

President Sheridan nodded. "In Valen's Name."


	22. Chapter 22

**FIC: ****Babylon**** Faith (22/22)**

"This is White Star Tapferkeit," the captain's voice crackled through the ship's speakers as the video played on the flagship's large screen, the tension thick in his voice, "we've encountered the enemy and are taking damage."

Sheridan forced back tears as he watched helplessly as the White Star weaved in and out of the chasing dragon's attack, conscious of the ambassadors lined up watching behind him. He winced as static engulfed the screen the moment the ship was briefly bathed in flames expelled by the pursuing leviathan. After a second that seemed to last an eternity, the White Star burst out of the fire, its silvery bulkhead scorched, and backflipped to face its opponent then fly straight at the winged monster, weaving in and out of the reptile's fire.

And then its right claw closed on the scout and crushed it as easy as a human might crush an empty soda can. Sheridan took a rattling breath before turning to the massed ambassadors stood on the bridge. Having used this tactic successfully in the past didn't make it any easier to use or watch now. "That's the last of the scouts containing our false plans," he was relieved how steady his voice was. "I need you to move your fleets in position. And remember these scouts' sacrifice. Look around yourselves, look at your colleagues, your friends, remember your families, your homes. And remember this is what we're all fighting for."

* * *

"President Sheridan,"Sheridan forced his gaze away from the asteroid field between them and where the enemy would all too soon arrive, "I have those figures for you."

Sheridan forced his gaze away from the screen to look towards his flagship's chief officer. "Go on," he nodded curtly.

"As you wish," the Minbari returned his nod with a serene one of his own. "All 122 remaining White Stars are here. In addition, the Centauri have sent thirty Primus class battlecruisers each with a full complement of Sentri fighters and eighty Vorchan class medium warships. The Minbari have sent fifty Sharlin war cruisers with full complements of Nial class fighters, as well as thirty each Tinashi-class war frigates and Troligan-class armoured cruisers. Earth has sent twenty-four Legend-class warships. The Narn have sent a dozen Bin'Tak-class dreadnoughts, sixty G'Quan class heavy cruisers and three dozen squadrons of Frazi class fighters. The Drazi have sent thirty Tashkat-class advanced cruisers, forty-five Sun-Hawk battle cruisers and eighteen heavy fighter squadrons of Sky-Serpents. The Brakiri have sent forty Avioki-class Heavy cruisers and two dozen Brokados-class battle cruisers. The Vree have sent fifty XILL Class Cruisers. The Gnome have sent fifty Corvettes. The Hurr have sent sixty gunships. The Iksha baronies have sent us five dozen battleglobes. And finally, the Abbai have sent us twenty Lakara-class defenders andtwo score Blimith-class Defenders."

"Excellent." Sheridan's head swam at the numbers. "And what of the remote controlled jump-ready cruisers?"

"Six hundred ships have been positioned in space just behind our position, and another four hundred several thousand miles behind where our enemy is scheduled to appear, you need only say the word, President Sheridan."

"Excellent,"Sheridan repeated. His plan was ruthless simplicity. When the enemy's forces appeared at the other side of the asteroid field, where they believed the Interstellar Alliance fleet would be, he'd have the remote control turned on, causing six hundred empty and remote-controlled civilian ships positioned behind and above his own fleet to turn their jump engines on and open jumpgates, causing the enemy to start across the minefield. Then, when they were suitably drawn in, he'd explode the concealed mines, catching the enemy in a murderous crossfire. Then, he'd turn the remote control on for the empty ships behind the enemy, and then when they'd begun to turn to face the opening jumpgates behind them, they'd sweep in. Sheridan told himself for the millionth time it was a good plan.

Of course, as Helmuth von Moltke the Elder had said, no plan survives contact with the enemy.

"Sir," if a Minbari Ranger could sound shaken, this one had managed it, "we have jumpgates opening at the far end of the asteroid field."

Sheridan nodded, his gaze remaining on the screen before him. "How many?"

"They out-number us by approximately three to one."

Sheridan grimaced at the bombshell. His plan should take of a good deal of the enemy, but still… "Alright," he swallowed as the enemy armada began appearing at the far side of the asteroid field. Menacing Drakh ships floated beside Strieb and Zener ships, even the odd Dilgar ship and some Lacaterns he recognised from the attack on Babylon Five last year. And the dragons, his stomach hollowed and blood iced at the sight of the winged mastodons flapping menacingly through the armada, both their great age and malignant evil apparent in their every look or move.

Sheridan shook himself, forcing himself to focus. Their enemy's evilness was the very reason their plan had to work. If it didn't there would be no hope for anyone. Everyone would share Babylon Five's fate, and he couldn't, wouldn't, allow it to happen. "Turn on the first lot of remote controls."

"Turning," his second reported. "Six hundred jumpgates opening behind us."

Sheridan smiled, his breath stuck firmly in his throat as the enemy started towards them. "Come on, come on," he barely muttered. "Come on." Finally the enemy was just past the middle of the minefield. "Light them up."

"Sir?" queried his second.

Sheridan cursed himself for using earth slang with an alien. "Ignite the mine field."

"Yes sir."

Sheridan shielded his eyes as the screen before him turned a blistering orange, so bright that tears sprung to his eyes. Ship after ship was torn apart by the explosions, some of the only damaged blown into other ships, causing further destructive chain-reactions. After a couple of minutes the carnage cleared to reveal the remaining enemy, some ships still smouldering but still flying, and the vast majority of the dragons apparently undamaged save for the occasional smouldering scale.

"Okay," Sheridan nodded sternly. "Order everyone into formation. Remind them I want the White Stars with me, the Minbari on my right, and the Earth ships on the left, the Centauri and everyone else packed in behind to make sure the enemy can't get in behind us, and the fighters in tight with the dragons, using their size against them. And then open the jumpgates in behind the enemy."

"Yes sir."

And so it began. Sheridan stared dead ahead, they'd have to get in the middle of the dragons for their device to have maximum effect.

"Jumpgates open."

"Very well." Sheridan squared his shoulders. "Attack."

* * *

Their White Star glided through the sky, its front neutron cannons firing at the nearest dragon. "I want to see the white of its eyes," Sheridan declared. "Get in close and blow it out of my sky!"

The White Star feinted right then went left, avoiding a Dilgar's lasers as it obeyed Sheridan's orders, neutron cannons blazing holes into one of the largest dragons. The creature's head reared back, huge maw gaping open as the white star's cannons burnt smouldering holes into the beast's chest.

"Whoa!" Sheridan let out a surprised wail when the ship flipped onto the side to avoid a gust of flames spat out by the hovering dragon.

"Sir," it was his second, "our escort is taking damage."

"I'm aware of that," Sheridan struggled to stay on his feet when their ship executed an effortless backflip out of the way of another gust of flames then dropped like a stone out of the way of another gust, their lasers gouging tears in the demon's belly. "That's it!" he growled as they weaved in and out of the monster's claws while continually shooting up into the monster's gut. "Give 'em hell!"

"Sir, we need to be nearer the centre!"

"I know." Sheridan nodded as the control panel before him short-circuited, blue and white sparks flying from it. He grabbed a hold of the panel before him when the craft shuddered under a blast from a Drakh cruiser. The ship veered sharply to the right, and then to the left, weaving in and out of the way of the attacking battleship before once again dropping like a stone then suddenly halted and pointed its nose upwards, shooting blast after blast into the ship's underbelly until it disintegrated in an explosion.

"Fighters coming in from starboard."

"I see them," Sheridan replied even as the helmsmen dragged their ship around to face them, their craft twisting in and out of the fighter blasts even as they returned fire. Sweat beaded on his forehead, as he glanced down at his watch. This was taking too long, they were taking too much damage.

"Jumpgates opening above us!"

Heart sinking, Sheridan glanced to his second. "Ours or theirs?"

* * *

Lennier stared at the computer screen even as the jumpgates opened and the techno-mage fleet dropped back into normal space. And into a battle that was the closest thing to hell he'd ever experienced.

All around was carnage, the twisted, burnt wrecks of what looked to be hundreds of ships floated for as far as the eye could see. And yet, for all the destroyed wrecks, far more ships were still fighting, furiously returning and receiving fire.

Surely their less than sixty ships couldn't make that much difference.

Suddenly Galen's clipped tones crackled over the ship's intercom system. "We are going in hot people, stick to your formation, and concentrate on the dragons, we have the enhanced shields and lasers that make us better capable to deal with them!"

* * *

"Sir! Our shields are down to fifty percent, we cannot take more than two maybe three hits from the dragons!"

Sheridan opened his mouth to reply then the lights went out and a ceiling pane fell, crashing into his shoulder and knocking him from his seat. Sheridan grunted as a rib cracked as he hit the floor, pain flaring through his side as he pulled himself back to his feet via his control console. "Keep going straight ahead," he ordered, tone ragged with pain, hand cradling his injured side, "blow us a hole through to the centre."

"We're losing ships left and right, sir!" warned his second. "They're holding steady against us, sir, we might have to release the object now!" Sheridan shook his head even as another hit savaged their ship, a dragon's gusted fire enveloping the White Star.

"Sir!" Before he had chance to speak the communications officer broke in. "Forty jumpgates opening directly above us. Really, really big jumpgates."

Sheridan's shoulders slumped. Forty ships shouldn't make that much of a difference in a battle of this size, but at this critical moment, with the battle hanging in the balance, it could turn the tide one way or another. "Whose are -."

"Yipeee keeye gang!" Sheridan's eyes widened as he recognised the Slayer's husky tones over his intercom system then saw the first of a fleet of ships with a ring of pulsing orange turrets surrounding a silvery spire erupted from the jumpgates, energy blasting from the ship to rip through the nearest of the dragons. "Mind if we join the fight, Prez?"

Soul Hunters, somehow she'd gotten Soul Hunters to help them. Sheridan shook off his amazement to reply. "Your ships are the largest, concentrate on your fire on the dragons, force them back."

"Gotcha," Faith replied, the ships swarming through the jumpgates doing just as instructed, bombarding the unprepared dragons directly beneath them with wrath and fire.

Sheridan shook his head, forcing himself to focus. "Force your way through the dragons, I want to take advantage of the enemy's disarray before they regroup."

"Yes sir." The flagship of the White Star fleet surged forward, a dragon flew into position just above them, hovering over them like an eagle ready to swoop down and steal a baby. Its head reared back as it readied to strike. And then an already ailing EAS warship swooped in between them and their enemy, taking the gust of flames meant for them, the gallant ship beginning to disintegrate under this new assault. Their White Star flew beneath the embattled warship then flipped onto its left side to avoid the flames of yet another dragon. "Sir!" His second let out what would be an excited squeak for a human. "Computer says we are in optimum release range!"

"Then release it!"

The Vanishing Pit was flung deep into space, spinning around as a golden glow expanded from it like a swelling typhoon. Sheridannoticed that none of the ships, either theirs or the enemy were affected, and yet the gargantuan dragons were torn from their place in space and inexorably pulled into the much smaller container.

Sheridan's shoulders slumped, a ragged breath escaping him, sudden sweat springing up on his forehead. Forcing himself to focus, he looked behind him to his second. "Put an order out throughout the fleet, shift our attack priority from the dragons and to the enemy fleet."

* * *

Earth

"Endawi!" David Endawi glanced up as his superior entered his office, the older man's face mottled with rage. "I assume you haven't heard the most recent news as regards these time-travellers?"

Endawi stiffened slightly, his inability to catch Faith Lehane and Alexander Harris rankling. These setbacks were the sort of events that turned a man's career trajectory from an upward to a downward one. "No sir," he held his tone carefully neutral.

"No of course you haven't," the Colonel began pacing, "it's been classified beyond top-secret. You've heard of the Dragon-fire battle?"

"I've heard rumours," Endawi cautiously replied. As a high-ranking member of Bureau 13 he had access to more information than a civilian or even a normal member of the military. Even so, he hadn't heard the full story of the Interstellar Alliance's victory over the dragons.

"Rumours? Well I've heard a lot more than rumours," the Colonel growled. "The duo were there, they weren't only there, they were at the head of a Soul Hunter armada that helped turn the battle's tide."

Soul-Hunters? Endawi gulped, Bureau 13 had unsuccessfully attempted to get their hands on information regarding this ancient race for years. "It gets worse," the Colonel grunted. "Apparently the duo have been invited to join the Rangers."

"So it's hands off then?" he queried.

"Oh no," the Colonel shook his head. "Getting your hands on these two time-travellers isn't your top priority, it's your only priority."

* * *

Minbar

"Lennier."

It was only decades of discipline and training that stopped Lennier from running and instead turned to face his former teacher and unrequited love. "Delenn," he bowed his head, gaze fixed on the ground. "You look well."

"I can not have an aide who will not look up. You will be forever walking into things." Delenn let out a soft laugh.

"It has been many years since you said that to me," Lennier replied.

"Yes," a sad smile played upon his mentor's lips. "Whatever has gone between us before, it is good to see you again."

"And you," Lennier hesitated. "I wish only to serve if I may."

Delenn's smile widened. "You may."

* * *

Minbar

"You're quite the pair aren't you?" Sheridan peered across his desk to the duo sat opposite him. "Your list of exploits during this incident alone." He shook his head. "Emperor Mollari, Ambassador G'Kar, and Mr. Garibaldi all speak very highly about you. Now," he paused momentarily, reluctant to broach such a sensitive subject, "it appears our scientists are at a loss to make sense of just how you got here, much less duplicate it to send you back home."

"So you're sayin' we're stuck here for good?"

"Yes," Sheridan noticed that for whatever reason the Slayer seemed far less disturbed at the prospect of being stuck here than her companion. Less ties in the past he suspected. "Given your skills and adaptability, I'd like to offer you a place on a new explorative craft the Rangers have built to map the Galactic Rim. Lennier is being asked to second the craft's captain, and Dureena Nafeel and Galen are both being asked to join the crew, as their unique skills will be an asset."

"To boldly go where no man has gone before-."

Faith shot her companion a pitying look. "Please, don't do that." She shook her head. "Every time I get half-way to forgetting what a geek you are, you have to say somethin' like that."

Sheridan forced back a smile. "Is that a yes?"

Faith nodded. "We'll take it."

**The End**


End file.
